


What You Wish For

by Komatsu



Series: Wishful [1]
Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Mental Instability, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Content, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 60,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komatsu/pseuds/Komatsu
Summary: Ringabel has yet to return from his mission with the Planeswardens, and Edea grows lonelier every day. At night, however, there is one who seeks to calm her heart, even if he's not perhaps, the one that she truly needs.  Alternis turns a blind eye to the wrong that the two of them are doing, until one day the truth threatens to bubble up from under the darkness from under which it has been hidden. Desperate, he lets darkness grow ever deeper, hoping that it won't consume them in the end.Updates weekly until the end!!
Relationships: Alternis Dim/Edea Lee, Edea Lee/Ringabel
Series: Wishful [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775197
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. please give her happiness

Alternis watched the wine swirl around the glass in his hand for a long moment before finally tipping it down his throat. It wasn’t the strongest drink they had available, but it would do, even if he sometimes felt like he needed the whole bottle. Any encouragement it gave him would be enough.

It was nearing the middle of June, which meant that Edea was getting more despondent with each passing day. She would stop and stare at the calendar every afternoon, crossing the date out with a sigh. He hated it. He tried to speak with her, just once, on the value of moving on with her life, because surely that was what the other man would have wanted, but she had yelled and then she had cried, and he had felt miserable afterward. He couldn’t bring it up again.

So he didn’t. Neither of them spoke about it.

He downed another glass before he felt ready, and threw it against the wall, where it shattered. In the morning, he would surely regret it. Now, it only served to reflect the current state of his heart, he thought bitterly, as he stood from his desk to draw a cloak about him. Edea was waiting.

Eternia was at peace, which meant that there were fewer soldiers than ever patrolling the halls, and none stationed just outside of her room for longer than a few minutes at a time. It was child’s play for him to hide in the shadows, because it was _he_ who had written the patrol schedule, and he knew that there was a 30-second window during which no one would be looking at her door. That was more than enough time for him to slip through the unlocked door - she always left it unlocked if she was waiting for him – and close it. He’d lock it now, to ensure he was the only visitor she’d have.

Edea was in bed, the covers drawn up to her shoulders, lying still. For a moment, he hesitated. Perhaps he had read her wrong earlier, as he had before. Perhaps she had been sad, but not _lonely_. He had long learned that there was a difference. Perhaps tonight she didn't need him. 

Then, she shifted, sat up, and rubbed at her eyes. “Ringabel?” she asked, hope in her voice. His heart squeezed in his chest and he almost did not have the strength to speak. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” he finally managed to croak, crossing the room in what he hoped was an over-confident swagger. He hadn’t practiced. “It’s me. I’m home.”

Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she yelled at him. He had hoped tonight would be a yelling night, because he could _handle_ that but instead, she began to weep, and he knelt onto the side of her bed, his knee digging into the soft mattress as she reached for him. He kissed the top of her head, cursing the vagrant, the world, _himself_ , everything that had led to this, this stealing of another man’s identity to give her some comfort, fake as it was, in the dead of the night. “Shh,” he murmured soothingly as his other arm wrapped easily around her, his kindness not an act. “There’s no need for tears.” Not for _that man._

“I’ve missed you so, so much,” she mumbled, her hands clinging tight to his pajamas. “You jerk. You could have written.”

“I’m sorry,” Alternis replied. He had no excuse. There was no excuse. Whatever reason the other man might’ve had for abandoning Edea, it would never be good enough for his liking, so he never bothered with coming up with anything to soothe her heart. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffled and leaned back to wipe her nose on the back of her hand, her eyes bright in the dim light of the stars, barely visible through the night’s blizzard. “You should be. Idiot.” There was no bite to her words as she wrapped her arms around herself. For a moment she seemed hesitant, and she glanced up at him wordlessly, opened her mouth to say something and -

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered before he could stop himself. Normally, it was Edea who opened that door. Tonight, though… he already hated himself, he thought. What was one more strike?

“Are you sure?” she asked him, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned into her palm, turned his head so that he could kiss it. No, he wasn’t. He didn’t want to borrow this name or this face, but this was all he had. This was all he would ever have, and so he had to be sure, for the both of them.

“Yes, I am. I love you.”

Edea was already laying back into her bed, hair fanning out on the mountain of pillows. Every time he visited, it seemed as though she collected more. “I love you too,” she murmured, and he had to forcefully remind himself that those words were meant for another.

He leaned down to kiss her, tasting salt. She murmured against his touch, opening her mouth easily to his questing tongue. Alternis sighed as they fell into an easy rhythm, lips and tongues playing back and forth. She _was_ sleepy, it seemed, because her touch was languid and less desperate as it had been in the past, though no less eager. When she turned to the side for air, he pressed kisses to her jaw and throat, slowly making his way to where the top-most button on her pajama top had been undone, revealing a sliver of creamy skin that practically glowed in the moonlight. She rocked against him, her fingers running through his hair, still slightly damp from his earlier shower, tugging at wild curls that he hadn’t bothered trying to tame.

“I’ll take it slow,” he murmured, as he always did. Just in case. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I will,” she replied, as always, though she never would. She arched into his touch when he popped the buttons to her top. “I’ve waited long enough for you, you know.”

“So you have,” he said. And, despite tonight, she would continue to wait. This was only a bandage on the gash in her heart that had been torn open by the other man’s absence. A balm that would fade soon enough. It made him angry to think about, and before he could scowl his distaste and break her illusion, he ducked his head to a bared breast and tugged a stiff, cold nipple into his mouth. The noise of pleasure she made was exquisite, sending heat to his loins as she squirmed under him. If only this _was_ for him.

“Ringabel,” she whimpered, and he pretended as though he hadn’t heard her, suckling harder than was probably necessary. But then, Edea was made of stronger stuff than he could have imagined, and she practically mewled her approval, her nails scraping along his lower scalp, spurring him on. With his free hand, he played with her other nipple, warming it with his fingers, tugging and twisting the little nub until it was as hard as a pebble. Only then did he move to suck on it as well, kissing the curve of her breast as he moved. He felt more than heard her sigh, a sound deep from her chest. It woke something deep within him, something both upset and angry. His hand clenched at her waist, his jaw tightened against her breast. She touched his face again.

“Forgive me,” he managed to say, not looking up into a face he knew was concerned. He loosened his grip on her, licked her wet nipple as if to console her. “I’ve missed you. I’m only getting carried away.”

She swallowed. “… I don’t mind. Let me help.”

Her idea of helping was, as usual, to push him away so that they could disrobe more quickly. He pulled his clothing off one by one, dropping them on the floor by her bed where they were joined by her pajamas and panties. In the light, the few scars that made him different from his otherworldly counterpart weren’t visible. She wouldn’t notice them.

Edea’s hand caressed his bare thigh. “You must be tired. If you'd want, we can just lay together and sleep.”

That’s how it had all started. “Is that what _you_ truly want?” he asked her wearily. Perhaps this whole act had started that way, but it rarely soothed her anymore. She would be only lonelier in the morning. When she didn’t answer, he nodded. “I told you, Edea. I missed you.”

She pulled him back into the bed. “I want you,” she confessed. “I want you to hold me and be mine. Never let me go again.”

“I would wish nothing more,” he replied, voice low. His words were true, even if hers were not. “I’ll stay with you until morning.” He kissed her once more and any protests she might’ve had died in her throat as he leaned over her, pressing her into the bed.

It was always cold in Central Command, and so he did his best to warm her with his body, his hands running down the length of her side until he could cradle her hips. Her chest pressed to his, nipples stiff with cold and rubbing against his own as she rolled against him, whimpering at his touch, her hands like fire against his back. At least, he thought with some vindication, he could say that he knew her body better than any other, especially _him_. He knew exactly where to touch her between her legs to get her thighs to part, Edea drawing her knees back toward her chest so that he might have better access. He was taking it slow tonight, after all, and that meant worshipping her as she deserved.

“You’ve been drinking,” she said as he kissed her throat again. “I can taste it.”

She’d brought this up before. “Only on lonely nights, my dear,” he replied, trying not to gag at the cloying tone he forced. He knew that the other man indulged in drink as well, and that it wasn’t _that_ out of character. They were grown men.

Edea traced a pattern in his back as he made his way down her belly. “You didn’t overdo it?”

Not tonight. He’d wanted his wits about him, as tempting as it had been. No… she deserved better than a drunken man. She deserved better than what she had. “Of course not.” As if to punctuate his point, he kissed above the v of her legs, his tongue dipping down to taste her. She whimpered and spread her thighs further.

“I just – Just wanted to be sure,” she stuttered, and she clenched her fist in his hair as he kissed further still. “You know I – “ She cut herself off with a gasp. He hadn’t wanted to hear any more out of her, not about his current state or whatever else she was going to say, and so, holding her lower lips open with two fingers, had licked a swift path up from her entrance. The resulting effect had been what he’d wanted, the way she moaned, her hips jerking up. Satisfied with her reaction, he lowered his mouth to her. For long moments, he tongued at her sensitive center, urging her to climb to her peak. Underneath him she was all but powerless, her thighs flexing, hips rolling against the touch of his lips and fingers. The noises she made washed over him, blanketing him in heat that warmed him more than any alcohol could. This reaction was purely hers, no act. She loved what he did to her, and for those few moments, the world was true.

Then she came with a cry of his name and his illusion fragmented into a million pieces. “Ringabel! Oh, Ringabel!” He let her ride through, his mouth gentle against her fluttering sex until only the tiniest of shudders rippled through her form. Only then did he lean back, any satisfaction that he’d had at her orgasm tainted by the bitterness of that name. His mouth tasted sour with defeat.

She caressed his thigh. “You’re already hard.”

He was. The humiliation of hearing another’s name hadn’t affected his arousal. If anything, it only served to make him harder, though going down on her had thankfully done most of the work. Now, he quietly let her reach over to take him in hand and tug. Ah, he should say something, shouldn’t he? “I told you that I missed you,” he finally said, eyelashes fluttering when she squeezed a bit too hard. It felt good! They’d had many lonely nights of practice together and she had figured out what he liked. The other man would probably enjoy the same thing, unfortunately.

“Then… “ Edea swallowed. “Will you take me as yours?”

She let go of him to lean back into the bed, her thighs parting for him, and he sighed to himself as he positioned himself over her, his hand taking over the movements. “You have always been mine,” he said to her, voice flourished in an accent he hated so, so much. So much he had trained himself away from it until now. “Though I’ve been apart from you for so long, every night I dreamt of this moment.” She beamed at him, eyes shiny, and he thought that those agonizing afternoons where he’d researched countless sappy words had been worth it.

As he pressed inside her, he also lowered himself into her embrace, and her arms and legs both wrapped around him. With a sigh, he settled against her, allowing her moments to adjust to the feeling of joining with him. She caressed his back, body clenching carefully around him for some time before she nodded, and he rocked back and then against her once more. She sighed. “Gently,” she told him.

Being gentle with her was, sometimes, easier said than done, but it also meant he could lavish her with love. Alternis leaned back on his forearms so that his weight wasn’t so thoroughly on her, kissing her forehead. With her legs as tight around his waist as they were, his movements were shallow, little more than rocking motions against her hips. “I am always gentle,” he teased, and she gave him a true smile. It made him hate everything a little more.

They settled into a comfortable rhythm, the two of them, and within time he rested his head against her shoulder, kissing at her pulse and listening to the sound of her breathing as they joined together. Her eyes were closed, a look of bliss on her face, her fingers tracing circles into the tight muscles of his back. Heat was building up just as comfortably in his lower belly, a swelling of emotion and need that every motion slowly fed. She seemed so happy right now, the way her lips curled up, the breathy laugh that slipped out of her now and then. He would do anything to keep that smile on her face, and it was for that reason that he did this at all, throwing away his dignity so that she might have a few moments of peace. Love swirled within him and the fire in his belly grew.

After some time, her eyebrows furrowed, her teeth tugged at her lips, and he felt her tighten around him. “I… I'm close," she breathed. 

So was he. The same Dark Knight training that had forced his stamina beyond normal human limits in battle had proved effective in bed as well. Stubborn pride carried him even further, prolonging his release despite the painfulness in his loins. They were growing tight and hot, and he gave her a quick, somewhat rough thrust just to hear her gasp and to give himself relief. “I want you to come around me,” he urged her, and he rolled over until he was more completely over her form, dragging her hips closer. She nodded, and he hunched over her, bracing himself against the bed as his strokes increased in urgency. One of her hands wove their way between their heated bodies so that she might caress herself, and though he wanted to close his eyes in pleasure, he kept them open, drinking up her lovely form.

“Ringabel!”

Shame spiked through him as she cried out _his_ name again, full of delight. This wasn’t meant for him. This had never been meant for him. “Edea,” he said, biting his lip. His eyes felt hot. He was _not_ going to cry and ruin this for her. “Edea, I love you.”

Edea propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes hazy. “I know…” she breathed, and her head dipped back, revealing a pale neck he desperately wanted to kiss. “I love you too… Ringabel.” He wanted to grab that pale neck and force her to say his real name, for once. Please, just once. Give up this façade and face the truth…!

Then she was shuddering underneath and around him. He grunted, finally letting his eyes close as painful pleasure rippled through him, razor-sharp and sweet, and his own climax thundered through his veins. With a deep groan, he held his position against her, draining into her body not for the first time, and not for the last. Edea had never brought it up before, and he didn’t know how to approach her on that topic. Didn’t _dare_.

They breathed together, chests heaving and limbs shivering in the cold air of Central Command. Only when he was aware of the sweat cooling on his forehead did he come back into himself, remember who he was and what he was doing, and pull away from her, slipping out in one easy motion. Edea let out a noise, closing her legs and rolling to one side. He sat on the edge of the bed, scrubbing through his messy hair.

“Al – Ringabel,” she said quickly, and he swallowed. His throat burned. Why? Why was he still doing this?

“Yes dear?” he asked in his fake accent, as though she hadn’t slipped. It wasn’t the first time she had. “What is it?”

“I need to clean up,” she whispered. “Will you stay?”

Sometimes he did. Sometimes he didn’t. He didn’t want the chance of facing her in the morning, when the sun would shine on their lies, hiding nothing in front of its rays. He hesitated. “I…”

“Please.”

“Very well,” he finally acquiesced. Edea, despite her position, still had a habit of waking late in the morning if she could, and he was an early riser even without an alarm. He could escape her room before she woke, probably. The hardest part would be avoiding the guards. “I’ll stay.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and stood. “Then wait here! Make yourself comfortable.”

As Edea headed into her ensuite, he aired out the blankets that had been soiled with their activities, borrowing a quilt from her closet to replace the one that smelled heavily of musk and sex. Then, he fluffed out her pillows and laid down on them, waiting for her return. She came back soon enough, skin gleaming in the starlight. She had showered and now smelled fresh and clean as she snuggled into his embrace, kissing his jaw.

“I’m happy you’re here,” she murmured to him as his arms wrapped around her form. Their skin stuck together, but not unpleasantly so. He pressed his cheek to the top of her damp hair. “I’ve never been so happy, Ringabel.”

“I know,” he said. She was killing him here, as well as herself, in the end. No matter how many sweet words he would say to her tonight, no matter how often he might try to soothe her broken heart and heal the wounds in her soul… and no matter how often he might pretend to be another in a desperate attempt to help her loneliness, come morning it would be the same as ever. He could never truly replace the man she loved, even in as intimate an activity like this. “I wish for nothing more than your happiness, Edea.”


	2. please have mercy on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternis had been content. Dare he say it, even happy, despite the guilt that gnaws in his belly.
> 
> Suddenly, Edea announces something that brings their lies into the light of day, and the shadows in his heart grow ever deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is being continued. Keep an eye on the tags, because they will evolve as chapters as added.

“Before we adjourn for the month,” Edea said to the people assembled in the room with her. “I have an important announcement I need to make to you all. Hear me out!”

Upon returning to Eternia after saving the Crystalist Pope five years ago, she had realized very quickly that she needed help. While Braev had been Grand Marshal, and the defacto leader of the country with the ArchDuke’s blessing, the Council of Six in total had been the true seat of power when it came to Eternia’s everyday affairs, and the absence of several of its members was taking a toll. With support from letters that Lord DeRosso had left, signed and verified by many members of the higher ranks, the new Grand Marshal Edea had taken control of the country, and swiftly assembled a Cabinet of leaders who could all focus on different aspects of Eternia’s wellbeing as well as providing more representation for the citizens. Twelve of Eternia’s finest citizens, from all walks of life, convened monthly as a full group to discuss how to best run the country. Edea was still in charge as the head of the country, and handled all aspects of the military as well as giving the final approval for other projects or budgetary needs. It had taken her over a year of hard work to get the system going, but it went smoothly now, and Alternis couldn’t have been prouder of her.

He had stayed at her side throughout the changes, and now was the Head of Intelligence, working closely with her every day. He also sat in the chair closest to her side, because he still insisted on protecting her even though they were all aware she could protect herself, especially after a previous assassination attempt. Now he leaned back in his chair and cocked his head at her, confused. As part of his role, he kept their meeting minutes. Edea normally would run through the meeting itinerary with him every session, and she _never_ made announcements without telling him first. Judging by her nervous demeanor, the way that her hands smoothed over her stomach, this was an important announcement. What was she doing?

Edea waited until she had the full attention of the twelve people around her before stating, with a warm smile, and her hands against her belly, “I just wanted to tell you all, so that we can begin to prepare, that… I’m expecting my first child.”

_What?!_

Later, he would not be able to recall what happened in detail.

The other councilors had been surprised, but there had been heartfelt congratulations all the same. He was very glad that Edea allowed him to wear his helmet during these official meetings, because it had hidden a paling face as several of the others, most of whom were older than her, approached her to inquire further about her news. ‘We’ll talk more about it later. I’ll meet with you one-on-one about our plans for what to do while I’m out,’ Edea had assured them in turn. Her voice and reassurance became static in his ears, nearly drowned out by the painful hammering of his heart, audible in the confines of his helmet.

One by one, the councilors left, and Edea finally turned to him. “Alternis?” she asked. “You okay?”

Was he okay? Surely she was joking. How could he possibly be okay after _that_ announcement? He found suddenly that he could no longer breathe. The walls were closing in on him, his helmet stifling. His vision went dark.

When he next opened his eyes, he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His helmet had been removed and something soft cradled his head. At first, he was only confused. He had passed out before, and rather commonly in his work as a Dark Knight. However, this time there was no twinge of pain from a body overly abused by his Asterisk. So why…?

It hit him all at once, and his stomach tightened at the memory. Bile rose in his throat and he rolled over onto his side before he choked on it.

“Hey, careful there!” Edea said from beside him, grasping his shoulder to steady him. A glance up through his hair told him that she was kneeling beside him. The room seemed otherwise empty. His cheeks burned out of habit; how disgraceful he was being in front of her! “You alright?”

Was he… alright? Surely she was joking. He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth. “I – I’m fine,” he lied to Edea, struggling to his knees. She had only removed his helmet and not the rest of his armor, and so the sharp edges of his knee pad scraped against the floor as he fought to stand. They would need to polish that out later. “Everything’s fine.” Everything was not fine, but he refused to fall to pieces in front of her. He’d done enough of that before in the past. The urge to lash out at something – anything – was strong, and he refused to lash out at her. He’d sworn not to, ever again, and especially could not with her current… state.

“Do you need a moment?”

He leaned heavily against the table, his breathing ragged. “I’m fine,” he repeated, his limbs shaking with the effort of controlling himself. “I just need to be alone.” Alone, he might be able to focus on some of the breathing techniques that Kamiizumi had taught him to calm down and to think about what in blazes he was going to do now. Edea, pregnant… he’d assumed, perhaps very wrongly, that she was protected during his night visits!

She gave him a pitying look, stepping back to observe him. “If… you’re sure,” she started, and he had never been so unsure of anything in his life. “Hey, why don’t we have dinner together? We can bump it up to tonight.” Edea had insisted that they eat dinner together at least once a week, a tradition that they had started when her parents still lived in Eternia. Normally, they often worked through the dinner as well, but at least it was some time alone. He had always looked forward to those nights, though they usually happened at the end of the week.

Privately, Alternis didn’t think he’d ever be able to eat food again. His stomach was in far too much turmoil. Outwardly, he nodded slowly. “Yes. Something light, perhaps…?”

She sighed, looking more than a bit put out. “I know! I’m not allowed to eat certain foods now. I’ll think of something. See you tonight?” With that, she turned away to leave, and Alternis tucked his head toward his chest and counted his heartbeats as the door closed behind her. One hundred… two hundred… three hundred… at four hundred, he screamed, throwing his head back and letting his rage fill the empty, stale air. If the guards outside heard him, so be it.

Dinner was salmon seasoned with lemon and salt, with a healthy portion of mashed potatoes and asparagus on the side. Edea grumbled about it, muttering under her breath about healthy eating and omega-3 fats or other things her doctor had spoken to her. Alternis couldn’t bring himself to eat, forcing down a few forkfuls of the meat to save face.

“What’s _with_ you?” she asked him as she helped herself to some of his potatoes. He pushed the plate over to give her better access. She could have the whole lot, as far as he was concerned. “You’ve been acting funny all day.”

“You’re pregnant,” he reminded her, the words coming out more harshly than he would have liked. He scolded himself, reminded himself of his vows to treat her right. It was more important than ever, now. “I’m… I can’t believe it.”

Edea sighed, and some of the bravado he had seen in her earlier melted away. She shrunk in on herself, wrapping her arms around her torso. He eyed her waist, but even though she didn’t wear armor to dinner, he couldn’t see any outward changes. How long had she known, carrying her secret silently? “I am pregnant,” she repeated, voice sounding small. “It’s a little daunting, doing this alone.”

“Wha-? You’re not alone!” he insisted. He would have dropped to one knee in front of her if not for the fact that they were sitting on opposite sides of a table and he would have had to push the chairs aside. Instead, he reached over for her hand, which she tucked against her side. “I’m here for you, Edea! I’ll be here for you always.”

The smile she gave him was warm, sweet… and yet, there was something off about it. He realized what it was. Since her announcement, he had been agonizing over the idea of being a father. It had set him into a panic! Edea, however, had seemed strangely calm. Why hadn’t she told him before, he wondered. He vaguely recalled Edea telling Councilwoman Ilina that she was in her second trimester. That should have given her plenty of time to speak with the father of her child, and surely she knew…

His heart sank.

“Edea,” he asked slowly, not sure he wanted to hear what she would say. “Do you know who the father of your child is?”

She scowled at him, eyes suddenly scathing. “Just what are you accusing me of?” she cried, and he wondered if it was pregnancy hormones or just regular indignation that had her kicking him under the table. He supposed he deserved that. “You think I wouldn’t know something so important?”

“N-n-no,” he stuttered, rubbing at his shin. The rule about wearing armor at the table did not apply to their sabatons and greaves, and her kick hurt. “I’m sorry, that isn’t what I meant to imply at all. I only want to know why I wasn’t told before.”

Her fork scraped against the plate as she paused, playing with her food. He watched her closely, his heart thundering for an answer. He knew for a fact that he was the only one who had been with her, and that there was no other, and yet…

“Ringabel,” she finally told him, voice hardly more than a whisper. “The father of my child is Ringabel.”

Numbness spread through him. Were he holding anything in his hands, it would have broken, just like the remains of his heart. Everything felt foreign, as though he were seeing it all from a distance, and time stood still. He took a deep breath and slid his hand under the table, clenching his fist tightly until his jagged nails cut into the calloused flesh of his palm, grounding him. “Ringabel?” he managed to ask her, throat tight. This was the first time he had said that man’s name, ever, and he hated him more than anything at this moment. “Wh-why him?” Why _him_?

Edea let out a shaky laugh. “He’s been visiting me at night,” she explained, and he closed his eyes to the nervous smile she cracked. “For months, now. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you!” Was she doing this on purpose? Or had she truly deluded herself into believing that their play, for the sake of her comfort, was real? He didn’t know which would be crueler, or perhaps it was a bit of both. She continued, rambling and avoiding his gaze, as though trying to convince herself as well as him. “It’s just… you know that he’s the one that I love most of all, even though he’s - busy. Despite that, though, I know that the man I love is the father of my child. He’s… been here, I swear!”

His chest was aching far worse than any Dark Magic he’d ever felt. “Edea… I…”

“I know it seems silly,” she continued, and he wanted to tell her that of all the ways to describe her words, ‘silly’ wasn’t one of them, “but this baby _is_ his. A gift, so that I have someone who can stay with me when he can’t. This time, I’ll cherish it with everything I have, and everything will work out.”

The knife she had plunged into his chest twisted even further at her words. He couldn’t process all of them now and forced them from his mind. Instead, he let out a loud breath, pursing his lips to calm himself. “He isn’t here now.” Was there a way to delicately break her heart, reason with her? He had never been very good at handling delicate things.

“No,” she said, avoiding meeting his eyes. “He’s not, you’re right. That doesn’t mean he can’t be the father of the baby, Alternis. He is. He really is.” She held a hand to her belly, smiling down at it. “He’s made me happy.”

There were very many things he could say to her right now. He could shout or argue for her to see the truth. He could point out that she started well aware of who was coming into her room and to pretend otherwise was folly. He could tell her that the man in question hadn’t so much as left a note in the past four years. But he did not. Old fears of clashing with the ones that he loved most kept his mouth shut. If this made her happy, then… perhaps keeping the lie would be alright? Who was it hurting, aside from himself? He didn’t matter in this regard, did he? This was _her_ child.

He couldn’t say anything to her, not right now. He needed more time to make sense of it all. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up at the table so quickly that the dishes rattled. “Please pardon me for the evening, my lord.”

“Alternis!”

Disregarding her words, he turned on his heel and fled the room so that he might break down in privacy.

The next day, he sent one of his messengers with a note that he was unable to work, due to a stomach bug. Surely Edea recalled how he’d been unable to eat at dinner. He was certain it would pass in time, but he would need to recover, and he wouldn’t want to make her sick in her current state. He would stay in his room, and she could send any paperwork his way for him to look over.

In actuality, once he signed his name on the letter and handed it over, he collapsed back into his bed and buried his face into the pillow he had screamed into all night, until his throat had turned raw and the pillowcase had speckled with blood. His head ached. His heart ached. His whole body was on pins and needles, the agony in his chest a match for the worst pain he’d felt in his life, the day he had fallen over the rotten railing of the Grand Ship and thousands of meters to the sea below to die. Now, just as he had then, he had felt stark betrayal and disbelief over Edea’s treachery. She had been tricked! She didn’t understand what she was saying! She needed help!

This time, however, the one who had tricked her was her own self. He hadn’t even known she was doing this, and that made it all the more worse. For how long, he wondered, had she convinced herself that her lover had returned? How long had she forgotten everything that he’d done for her? This time, her cruelty knew no bounds, and the worst part was that he was angry with himself above all. She was heartbroken. He was a fool. What could he have done to prevent this? Many answers, some much more unhelpful then others, swirled in his brain. It was tempting to let it all go, and his eyes strayed to his window, locked against the harsh winter of Eternia’s snowstorms, more than once.

It was three full days of lying in his bed, wallowing in his own sweat and tears, before he dragged himself to guzzle down some water, grimaced at his reflection, and slapped himself in the face to anchor himself in the physical world with pain.

Edea needed him.

Now more than ever, he thought to himself as he scrubbed at his face over his sink, Edea needed him by her side. He could set aside his personal feelings, as he had many times before, many nights before, and stand with her to help her through this. With time, he hoped, she would wake to the truth and realize what she was doing to them both. No, to the _three_ of them. And, he needed to make amends for his failings; it was his fault things had gone this far. He should have been more careful with her, her own methods of protection aside; should have recognized that she was pregnant – and not, apparently, for the first time, _crystals_ ; should have recognized the warning signs that she was falling too deep into her hopeful delusions; should never have given her that hope to begin with…

“You’re back!” Edea said to him as he entered the Council chamber. Councilwoman Rochelle, who was in charge of their citizen services, was with her. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied, nodding at both women, who smiled at him. His throat was sufficiently hoarse due to all his screaming and crying and made his excuse believable. “What have I missed?”

Edea and he met usually with the other council members individually several times a week, and so he had missed more than a few meetings. There was work he would need to catch up on, a few reports to look over. The workaholic in him despaired over her lackluster notes – her penmanship really did leave a bit to be desired - but the part of him still desolate with the news of his impending fatherhood-not-to-be was overjoyed with the idea of a good, worthwhile distraction while he tried to figure out how to handle Edea.

To his relief, she didn’t bring up her child’s paternity again, at least not where he could hear. Perhaps because most assumed it was him – he had ears in many corners of Central Command, and guards had to whisper louder than normal to hear each other through their helmets. He was aware of the many illicit rumors flying around, and Edea seemed to be as well, for all she was ignoring them. For his part, he reassigned the worst offenders to dragon-stable mucking duty, where their loose lips would be sealed shut, lest they breathe in the foul air.

For over a month he had relative peace, the ache in his chest slowly ebbing away with each day that he had to accept the reality of Edea’s reality. Instead, a numb, almost bitter, feeling filled his heart whenever he looked upon her and her growing stomach, the changes in her body barely visible under her armor. Resentment set his jaw tight so that he held his tongue whenever discussion of her pregnancy occurred, flooding his thoughts with curses so that he didn’t have to listen. Damn that man! Damn himself!

He could not bring himself to think those harsh words on her.

“I think I’m going to have to stop wearing armor,” Edea said to him one night. The two of them were alone, finishing up the week’s paperwork. One of the Councilmen had been out of town for a family emergency, and Edea had taken on his responsibilities, meaning that Alternis had been forced to help her with hers as well. They were a bit behind. “It’s getting tight around the waist.”

He glanced over, his cheeks warming despite himself to see the curve of her stomach. For all Edea’s claims, _he_ knew the truth, and sometimes that was all that mattered. Sometimes. “How far along are you?” he asked.

She gave him an odd look. He couldn’t blame her for it; she had told others multiple times how far along she was, as well as her due date, but that had been during the period of time he’d been trying his best to cut out all discussion of her state. “19 weeks tomorrow, Alternis. I’m due in March.”

“Do you know what you’re having already?” Eternia had ultrasounds and other tests that could determine a baby’s gender before its birth. He’d obviously never seen one in person, but during several of his trips to the Central Healing Tower to visit Mahzer Lee all those years ago, he’d overheard some of the staff mention them. Despite himself, he was curious to know. Edea had left work early for a few doctor’s appointments, and had once asked him if he’d like to go with her. He’d declined, feeling terrified at the very idea, but at least she was getting care.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I almost want to keep it a surprise. You know… things in life should be! Besides, it’ll be the same regardless.”

“What do you mean?”

Edea sighed. “I already looked into buying baby clothes, and the only difference is in the colors! And all the little girl's clothing is pink and white, while all the little boy's clothing is blue and green and red, and honestly, it isn’t really fair. What if I wanted a girl to wear red? Anyway, we don’t really have the budget for me to spend lots of money on baby clothes, especially not when they grow out of them so quickly. We wanted to start the Gravemark project in summer, right? You always say I should be more responsible. I can always shop for cuter things when they're older!"

“We did,” he acknowledged, but frowned. “Edea, you and I both have an allowance for our personal matters. We can afford baby clothes if you want to start buying them now.” That was unlike her, to turn down an opportunity to go shopping for clothes. Then again, she did have a point about the baby’s growth. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this child would be expensive. Forget clothing. They would need diapers. Blankets. Toys and other items. The baby would need a place to sleep... had she started buying any of this? It occurred to him that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d heard her talk about fashion, or shopping, or even the sewing hobbies that she’d picked up just last year. Was everything alright with her? She seemed fine, if not occasionally distracted, but...

She shook her head again. “I appreciate the offer, Alternis, but until Ringabel returns – “

He had to stop her there. “But nothing. I’m this child’s uncle,” he forced himself to say. The words were painful on his tongue, but in a way he supposed, they _were_ true. “You are my dearest friend. Allow me to help.”

A watery smile spread across her face. With her pregnancy, she was more beautiful than ever. Practically glowing, he thought. “Thank you,” she whispered. She looked down the table, biting her lip. “Thank you so much.”

As they finished up their paperwork, Alternis filing away a folder for them to look at next week, Edea stopped and stared into one of the cabinet drawers in front of her. “Ringabel hasn’t come to see me in a while,” she told him, and her hand drifted across her belly. “I – I wanted to tell him about the baby. Do you think he’ll be happy?”

He could take a hint. There had been a reason, several reasons, why he hadn’t visited Edea at night in the past few weeks, the strongest being that he’d wanted to distance himself to protect what was left of his heart. He should have known that she would be upset over it, no matter how improved his sleep was in his abstinence. His back stiff, he stared up at the wall as he fought to think of an answer that wouldn’t hurt her. “I think that he would enjoy having a family with you,” he finally managed to say. That sounded… good enough and it was something he thought might true. If Ringabel had any of the same virtues that he did, the man wanted to start a family with the woman that he loved.

“He’d better,” she mumbled, sounding like herself. “He’s the one who started this whole thing.”

He was _not_ , Alternis mentally replied. Alright, perhaps it had been he who had been too utterly exhausted to go back into his own rooms, one night last year when he and Edea had stayed up horrifically late in her chambers to rewrite some paperwork that he’d spilled coffee on all over earlier. But _she_ had been the one to invite him to share her bed, citing the frigid hell of Eternia’s nights, and the one to call him by the other man’s name when she woke in the morning beside him, sleepy and confused on two hours of sleep. Embarrassed, he’d responded to it. The next time he’d slept over, because there had been quickly been a next time, she’d called him that name almost immediately, and he hadn’t corrected her, too eager to do something that might offer her a bit of comfort that it seemed as though she needed. Then she had progressed to kisses and from there… he supposed it _had_ been the both of them who had pushed things to the next level. Edea because she’d been lonely, and himself because he’d been pathetic.

“Why didn’t you tell him first?” he asked her now as he wiped the table down. His coffee had spilled at some point, and it would stain if he didn’t clean it. They had housekeeping, but the women only worked during the day under supervision. “That you were pregnant, I mean.” He would have liked a warning and some time to prepare for this whole terrible thing.

Edea was leaning over the table, her elbows on the surface as she watched him work, feet spaced hip-width apart. It helped her back, she’d told him once before, so he let her do it without further comment. “I wanted to,” she confessed, and her eyes darted over his face. “But… I didn’t know how he might react. I wanted to have it out in the open, first. My doctor had recommended I wait until I was further along before I let others know, just in case. Mother and Father knew, though.”

They had known and they hadn’t told him? Another fresh wave of hurt washed over him. Then again, the more rational part of his mind hastened to chime in, it was highly unlikely they knew he was the child’s father. He wondered what Edea had told them in that regard.

She seemed to have noticed his hurt feelings, because she reached over to touch the back of his hand. He paused in his motions. “It wasn’t personal,” she told him, her voice uncharacteristically small. “I only wanted to be absolutely sure before saying anything, and I didn’t want to worry you. You’re my dearest friend too, Alternis. A-and like you said, this baby’s uncle. I wanted your support, I did!”

Her words barely soothed the rawness in his heart. “You could have had my support at any time,” he said, turning back to wiping the table down. It needed a fresh coat of polish, he noted absently. He’d ask the housekeepers to do so next time they came around.

“Are you mad at me for that?”

“I’m not,” he told her, speaking the truth. He wasn’t mad, not at her, only himself. And while he was hurt that she would keep it from him for so long, it wasn’t _anger_. It was dismay at being so disregarded by the woman he loved so much, while he had sacrificed his dignity, self-worth, and very nearly his life, for her sake. Sometimes, when he was trying to sleep late at night and his mind refused to rest, it wandered into dark thoughts on how unhealthy it was to be a subservient Dark Knight at times. There were many ways he could fix this, if only he wanted to. “I’m really not,” he reassured her, noticing the disbelieving look on her face. “I just wish I could have helped you sooner.”

She sighed and straightened up as he tossed the wet cloth into the trash bin. “Help me now.”

“Whatever you wish for, Edea.”

Of course, he knew that what she wished for was for him to enter her room that night, disguised as his other self. Another man, whose other self was _him._ After preparing his nerves with a drink, stronger than usual, he spent a few minutes in front of the mirror, styling his hair as best he could into something that looked vaguely like the other man’s usual coif, drew a cloak about him, and like always, kept to the shadows as he made his way up one story and down the hall to Edea’s room. The guards patrolled slowly, talking amongst each other to keep themselves awake. When they turned their backs on each other, he waited until one walked by the alcove he’d hidden in before darting into Edea’s unlocked suite.

She was awake when he entered her bedchamber from her sitting room, propped up on her army of pillows with a book resting on her swollen stomach, lit by a bedside lamp. She looked up when he halted in the dark doorway.

“Ringabel?”

“I-it is I,” he stuttered. “Edea, you look…” She looked stunning, her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders, her face brightly illuminated by the light shining from both her lamp and the windows. In her pajamas, he could see the curve of her belly more clearly than he ever had before. Her armor really had been hiding the actual progress of her growth. 19 weeks, he reminded himself. He didn’t know what that meant but had a feeling he would need to be doing some reading soon. He needed to prepare…! 

She set the book aside and swung out of bed. “You’ve come back!” she cried, and he met her halfway across the room, sweeping her up into his embrace. He clutched her tightly, winding one of his hands behind her head as she buried her face into his shoulder. For a few moments, she wept, tears wetting his top. Then, she pulled back to cradle his face with her and _kiss_ him. He kissed her back, somewhat surprised at how forward she was being. Surely it hadn’t been that long since they had been together, he thought, but when they parted, Edea’s lips kiss-swollen and wet, she whispered, “I missed you so much. I have a lot to tell you.”

His hand swept across her belly, marveling at the size of it. “Tell me everything, my dear.” The words, though syrupy sweet and accented beyond his liking, came easily. He wanted to know everything, and if she wouldn’t tell her child’s uncle, then surely she would tell her child’s father.

Edea tugged him to her bed, and he obediently curled up on his side, waiting patiently as she discarded her clothing to reveal a body that had changed since the last time he had seen her. _How_ had he not noticed she was expecting until that public announcement? She was beautiful, and he wished fervently that she was truly his, instead of belonging to a borrowed identity. He could scarcely keep his eyes off her, let alone his hands, as she settled onto the bed with him, her cheeks flushed with joy now that they were ‘reunited’. She had turned off the lamp just moments ago, and looked positively angelic with the silvery light of the moon casting over both her usual and her new curves. Alternis couldn’t contain himself.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, ducking his head down to kiss her neck. After all, it had been a while, at least eight weeks by his count, since he’d had any decent, intimate human contact. He had needs too, needs that had been long buried under darkness and self-hatred until Edea had coaxed them out. She giggled at him and ran her fingers through the hair he’d wasted time styling. “Are you pregnant?” he asked her, remembering that ‘Ringabel’ wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yes,” she said to him, and her smile was heart-wrenching. Her eyes had lit up with an excitement he hadn’t seen in _so_ long. “We’re having a baby together. Surprise?”

If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend she was saying that to _Alternis_ , to _him_ , and not to the façade that they had concocted together. He kissed the curve of one of her breasts as his arms wound around her. “We are, aren’t we? Crystals, Edea… we’re having a baby.” Hoping that he sounded sufficiently surprised, he simply held her for a few moments, letting her hold him in turn. Her belly pressed to his.

“I’m really nervous,” Edea admitted to him, squeezing her arms around his shoulders as he continued to mouth at her chest, trying to be mindful of his weight against her torso. “I wasn’t expecting this either, and … I don’t really know what I’m doing, but everyone seems so supportive! I wish you could be here more often to be here with me and the baby.”

If only she would open her eyes to what her mind had blocked out. He _was_ there for, and wanted to be for every step of the way. Instead of saying as such though, after a few moments of thought, he lifted his head to kiss her. “I will be here for you as much as I can, my dear, even when you don’t see me.” That would have to do, wouldn’t it? He wasn’t sure what else he could do right now. She kissed him back, closing her eyes and smiling against his lips.

It _had_ been weeks since they’d been together, and Edea was just as eager as he was to experience love-making again. Serious conversation would have to wait until they had both been satisfied, and so Alternis wasted no time in understanding all the changes that had happened in Edea’s body. Outside even her pajamas, the swell of her belly seemed quite large, though he knew there was several more months for it to grow even harder, and he spent some time with his head resting against it, marveling that inside of there was a child. His child.

“Have you felt anything yet?” he asked her, kissing her hip as he moved further down. He hadn’t felt any movement, but perhaps the baby was asleep? Did unborn babies sleep? Edea shook her head, smoothing her hand over his hair. With her stomach in the way, it was a bit hard for her to reach him.

“Not yet,” she replied distractedly. “Sometimes I think I do, but it comes and goes… oh! Oh…”

He smiled to himself as she groaned above him, his mouth too occupied to answer her. Take that you bastard, he thought to the man whose identity he was borrowing. _Ringabel_ had never heard Edea’s pleasured cries and moans in the way that he had, and _Ringabel_ wasn’t the man who’d made a baby with her. For all Edea’s deluded ideas, the two of them knew the truth, even if it was buried deep inside of her psyche. Someday, he hoped, she would know the truth. She had to. How could she possibly deny it?

For now, he would try to ignore the pain his chest that spiked each time she called the other man’s name and focus on _her_. Focus on the way that she cried out, over and over as he slowly brought her up to her peak and then pushed her over the edge, her body shuddering with an orgasm. He focused on the laughter in her eyes when she reached for him, pushing his clothes off with shaking hands so that she could _touch_ him, calloused fingers running over his legs to his manhood. He absolutely focused on _that_ , pleasure shooting up his spine as his dear Edea handled him as she did every other night they were together, her grip iron-tight and painful, just the way she had learned he liked it.

He loomed over her as he tried to figure out a position that wouldn’t involve too much unnecessary weight on her stomach, taking himself in hand and rubbing against her entrance. Edea shook her head at him. “Let me get on top.” Get on top she did, straddling his hips and lowering herself onto his length. Alternis leaned back into her pillows and grasped her hip with one hand. The other cradled her stomach, fully on display as she rocked over him. Maybe because Edea had hidden it from him in her armor, but he was absolutely fascinated with it. She seemed to think it adorable, judging by the smile on her face as she looked down at him. This wasn’t fair, he thought, with his face flushed in both embarrassment and desire, gazing into her hazy eyes. How was he supposed to resist wanting to be with her when she was like this?

When they were both fully satisfied, their climatic cries filling the chilly air and reverberating around the mostly empty room, Edea curled up in his arms and rested her head against his bare shoulder. He kissed her forehead. “I’ve missed you,” he told her. He’d missed being there for in this sense. She wouldn’t let him get so close during the day. He was utterly touch-starved, and it was for that reason that he held her especially close, his fingers drifting over her exposed skin.

“I missed you too,” she murmured. Her skin glistened with sweat. “When will you come home for good?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Soon, I hope.” It was a bad idea to give her _any_ sort of false idea that Ringabel would be returning soon or at all, but he’d learned the hard way that she preferred those types of answers to the possibility that he might not return for good at all.

“I hope before the baby is born. That would be nice. We could be together forever.”

Privately, Alternis would wish that the other man wouldn’t return at all. Instead, _his_ wish was that Edea would soon wake up from the dream she was in and face the truth as to who she’d spent these intimate moments with, and who she was now tied to eternally by way of the child she carried. Perhaps she was too deep in her sad fantasy for now, but soon…? Before the baby was born, as she said.

For now, he would have to be content with this, these stolen moments with Edea in the middle of the night, pretending that the darkness in his heart didn’t deepen each time she called him another’s name.


	3. please let me be enough

It had now been several months since Edea had told him, along with a room full of other people, that she was expecting a child – Ringabel’s child, despite the fact that the man hadn’t been seen in Eternia in years – and Alternis was getting tired with pretending.

Her libido had spiked midway through her second trimester, and he spent enough time masquerading as the man from another world in order to keep her satisfied that sometimes, _he_ was beginning to doubt his own identity. Nearly every other night, he’d joined Edea in her room so that the two of them could spend time together as expectant parents, acting as though the name she mistakenly called him was correct and that he was, in fact, a dandy with flirtatious tendencies and odd fashion choices. That he was the one who she truly loved, the person that was too busy with Planeswarden business to return home to her and Eternia for good, but not too busy that he couldn’t visit his lover regularly.

Alternis was aware that what he was doing was wrong on several different levels. Continuing to feed into Edea’s fantasies was harmful and damaging to them both, and he didn’t even want to think about the possibility of this damaging his relationship with his child, whenever they were born. However, he also knew that he was in far too deep at this point. Edea didn’t want to accept that he and ‘Ringabel’ were one and the same, for all she knew it on a subconscious level, and he didn’t want to lose the little that he _did_ have. He wasn’t happy but he wasn’t very _unhappy_. There was a difference. Besides, he was worried about how she might take being forced to accept the truth. Her health was, so far, relatively fine, but he’d accompanied her – as Alternis – to one of her check-ups and had heard her doctor mention that she was high-risk for complications due to her mother’s medical history. They were observing her closely. That alone made him hesitate to upset her, even though he wasn’t sure how much longer the whole play could last before crashing down about them.

By now, several of the other council members had spoken to him about the paternity of Edea’s heir. They, like the guards, had assumed that he was the father until Edea had cleared up the ‘misunderstanding’, and while they all knew who Ringabel was – most of the world did, because the Four Heroes of Light were nothing short of legends – they had never seen nor met the man. Alternis had been sick with worry that they might begin to question Edea’s sanity if they knew the truth, and that their faith in her ability to run the country would waver, and so he had lied to save face. “Edea and I don’t sleep together,” he had said, sounding as annoyed as one would sound when his love life was being questioned. “If she says that she’s been visited by him, then I believe her.” He had assured them that yes, Ringabel actually existed, he had met the man, and yes, he knew that Ringabel had the ability to come and go, though he wasn’t sure of the details. Of course, that meant that he then had to be much more careful covering his tracks when trekking back and forth between his rooms and Edea’s, until he had thankfully discovered a secret passage behind the painting in her office that led into the hole in his closet that had been boarded up for years.

Her parents too, spoke with him about the new baby. Mahzer and Braev Lee had come to visit for a month, partially so that Mahzer could get treatment for a cold and partially to visit with their expecting daughter. Both were planning to return closer to the baby’s due date so that Mahzer might be able to help her in the first few weeks with a newborn, but their first visit was an opportunity to help her prepare. To Alternis’s great relief, Edea seemed to perk back up to her usual self and, after Mahzer’s cold was vanquished, the two women had spent a few days in the city to shop. Alternis had taken on some of Edea’s responsibilities – a practice run for when she’d need to be out for maternity leave, they had decided – and Braev had stayed to assist him as needed.

“Edea’s told us that the father of her child is that man, Ringabel,” Braev had said to him that first night as they shared dinner together. Alternis choked on his drink, and Braev heaved a deep sigh as he reached over to firmly pat his son on the back. “I worry for her.”

He wiped at his chin before replying to the other man. “What – why is that, my lord?”

Braev had pointed many times that he was no longer Alternis’s lord, and thus no longer deserving of such a title, but Alternis refused to show Braev any less respect than he had previously. “You and I both know that can’t possibly be true. I’ve spoken to Ringabel very little – ay, I only spoke with him as we fought against one another in that battle all those years ago – but if I know _you_ at all, you would never leave Edea to bear a child by herself. So I wonder, why has she told us this?”

He gave Alternis a look that made him want to squirm and fess up to all his sins. “He’s been visiting her at night,” Alternis said slowly instead, because that was the truth of it. The half-truth of it.

“Has he?” Braev did not sound convinced.

It was all Alternis could do to not spill the truth, here and now. He bit his tongue as he thought of what to say… as much as he _wanted_ the support of the Grand Marshal, Edea also needed their support. “That’s… what the story is.” Braev leveled him with another look, one that was not judgmental or angry, but concerned. Alternis swallowed as a rare feeling of true guilt flooded him. He couldn’t do this, not in front of the man who had raised him. Braev held so much trust in Alternis, how could he repay that trust by lying to his face about his daughter’s state? While he normally tried not to open up to Braev, for fear of disappointing him, he would need to make an exception this time and pray it worked out. “Edea isn’t entirely wrong… I’ve been coming to her at night under his name.”

Immediately, Braev’s eyebrows snapped together and Alternis could see fury in the man’s eyes. Too late, he realized the implications of his statement, and he hastened to clarify, jumping out of his chair so fast that it clattered to the floor and his glass fell over as his elbow hit it. “She knows!” Holding his hands in front of him, though it would do very little, Alternis continued to babble in panic. That was not what he’d meant to say! Why couldn’t he have thought about his words more?! “She knows that it’s me, I swear it!”

“She knows?” Braev asked him. The anger was fading from his gaze, wariness replacing it.

“She… should,” Alternis insisted, though with Edea currently denying that she had ever slept with him, it would be hard to prove his words. His heart thundered in his throat in panic. “One night we had to stay up late to complete paperwork, and she allowed me to sleep over because I was so tired. She called me by his name at that time, and has done so ever since. However… she’s also called me by _my_ name several times. She knows.”

Braev looked troubled as he thought about this. “Then why does she not call you the child’s father?”

Alternis sighed with both relief and consternation. “She told me that she was happy that the man she loves is the father of her child. I imagine… no, that _is_ the reason.”

“That isn’t like her,” Braev replied, voice grave. He gestured for Alternis to sit back down, and the younger man did so, righting his chair with heat in his cheeks. “If you won’t, then I will speak with her, convince her to see reason. You’ve supported her this whole time. It’s not right for her to deny your paternal rights. If she’s wholly convinced herself, and this is not an act, then…”

“It’s… alright, my lord,” Alternis lied. He didn’t want the Grand Marshal to question Edea’s sanity either! He had to protect her in as many ways as he could. “Bearing that man’s child brings a happiness to her I haven’t seen in some time. She and I know the truth of it, as do you and Lady Mahzer, and I am content with that. Let’s leave it at that. I’ve already committed to it.”

Braev leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and Alternis averted his gaze. His stomach twisted over his lie to the man who had raised him, the man whose recognition he craved more than anything even now. But he couldn’t sell Edea out, either. Now more than ever, Edea needed his support and the support of her family. If her parents suspected that she had fooled herself over her child’s paternity, what would they do? Would they doubt her abilities? He worried about her health if she were forced to try to defend herself against any accusations lobbed her way. In her current state, how would that affect her and the baby? Perhaps they could wait until later to talk about the truth.

“Very well,” Braev finally said. “I still don’t understand why she can’t be truthful to us, but we’ll support the story the two of you have agreed upon.”

The problem was that Alternis _hadn’t_ agreed upon it, but he could do nothing more than nod his head fervently. “Yes, my lord.”

Mahzer returned from the shopping trip with Edea, and while Alternis wasn’t present for the conversation that she and Braev must have had, the next time that she saw him, she swept her arms about him as she done when he was much smaller and told him in whispered tones that she was happy for him and Edea both. She was so excited to be a grandmother and _thanked_ him for taking care of Edea all these years and especially now. His head and heart both ached, but he had nodded all the same and hugged her back. They had left soon after, and he had gone back to both of his personas.

He spent his days at Edea’s side as the Dark Knight, escorting her to meetings with the councilmen and women, and going over plans to expand Eternia’s influence across the globe. They were still trying to make amends with the countries that had been harmed during Braev’s Anti-Crystalist campaign all those years ago, but part of the plans meant charity work and other humanitarian efforts in the worst-affected regions. This involved lots of working back and forth with ambassadors from those countries, and he was always at her side, especially as her pregnancy progressed. He had to protect her and their child.

She could no longer wear metal armor with her stomach growing as it was, and so she had transitioned to leather plates, treated with anti-fire and anti-dark magic wards, tied with laces that were loosened every week. His fears that she might be looked down upon for being in the family way proved to be unfounded; most of the citizens in the country respected her for her continuing devotion to Eternia’s success, and every week she received thousands of letters with well-wishes and charms for good luck and health. At night, ‘Ringabel’ would curl up with his beloved and read through some of the letters with her.

Her friends sent letters too. Agnes Oblige – nay, Arrior - and her husband Tiz had already settled down in his newly rebuilt hometown of Norende and with two small children, with yet another very soon to arrive, Agnes was unable to travel. Instead, the women corresponded through letters that Alternis sent dutifully through Eternia’s telegram system to one of his contacts who had long moved to Caldisla with a woman he’d met during reconstruction efforts. Through him, they spoke often about anything and everything. ‘Ringabel’ read through these letters too, though he politely declined Edea passing on any messages from him. Alternis had sent one of his own letters to the Arriors, stating that he would explain everything in person when they came to visit after the baby’s birth.

Yew Genologia visited in person with his wife Magnolia. As head of the Crystalguard, he was required to meet with the Grand Marshal of Eternia on a regular basis and tended to stay an extra day or two for leisure visits. During the years they had known each other, Alternis had grown to like the younger man. He was extremely intelligent, if not a bit excitable. However, his first visit to Edea after her pregnancy announcement had all gone wrong.

“You’re going to have a baby, Edea?!” Yew asked her over one of their dinners. He seemed shocked, his eyes darting down to Edea’s form. She wore no armor at dinner, leather or otherwise, and her stomach was clearly rounded over her lap. The empire waist of her blouse enhanced it. Alternis had been gazing adoringly at it all evening, which meant that Yew had noticed and then asked what was going on.

“You didn’t notice?” Edea asked him, irritated at the interruption. Magnolia, sitting on Edea’s other side, giggled. Alternis was still stewing in his embarrassment over being caught a sap. “What did you think this was?” She gestured to her belly, leaning back from the table.

“Well…”

“Don’t. Finish that sentence.”

Yew and Magnolia were waiting a few more years before starting a family, Yew told Alternis later. Yew had been the youngest of the group, after all, and was still only twenty-three. He’d thought Edea would wait for that person of hers to return as well, but…

“ _That man_ goes to her at night,” Alternis had said. Every time he spoke the lie, it was like poison on his tongue that slithered down into his heart. He was slowly growing immune to the pain. “He’s the father of the child.” Yew’s surprise was easier to bear than others – the young man was intelligent but _gullible,_ which was another reason Alternis had liked him – but nothing more had been said. He was less familiar with the vagrant than the others. Who was he to judge?

But Magnolia… was a mystery. She had looked thoughtful when Alternis had mentioned that Ringabel visited Edea at night. “ _Does_ he? Interesting.” She had looked Alternis over with a gaze that was far too perceptive, and he suddenly remembered that her origins were unknown. Edea had mentioned she’d come from the Moon, of all places. Alternis realized now that he needed to do more digging. “I would have thought that impossible, given Luxendarc’s technology. No one sees him come or go?”

“That is what Edea says. I trust her,” Alternis had replied in a low tone. Edea had gone to the restroom, as she often had to, leaving the three of them at the table. “If you’d like, you can argue with Edea that she’s wrong about her child’s paternity. If you say it isn’t possible for him to travel as he pleases, then what are the alternatives?” _Please do_ , he thought.

Magnolia had only made a face and Edea had returned at that time, leaving their conversation behind.

That had been weeks ago. The tabloids were full of speculation as to who the actual father of the child was – one rag, in particular, claimed that Archduke DeRosso was the culprit – but no one seemed to actually care to dig further into the truth. They accepted Edea’s story, and Alternis should have been happy for it. A part of him _was_ happy, because she glowed with joy, but at night he fell deeper into his self-hatred for feeding her lies. And yet, he couldn’t stop, not when this was the only time he had to be with her. He was being selfish, just as selfish as she.

“We haven’t thought of baby names,” Edea said to ‘Ringabel’ one night. She was curled against his shoulder, her stomach taking up enough room that he felt crowded in the bed, even for as large as it was. The baby’s movements were only just perceptible, a nudging from Edea’s belly against his hip. He could never get enough of those little motions, smiling like a fool each time he felt a particularly strong one. “We should.”

“We should,” he agreed, giving her a kiss on the forehead. They’d just had sex, and he felt wonderfully satisfied. Edea was warm and soft against him, and her fingers traced his bare chest. Like this, things felt almost right in the world. “It would be far easier if we knew what we were having, my dear.” These days, with his speech peppered with flowery accents and careless words of affection, he found it more and more difficult to separate his daytime self from his nighttime fakery. He’d stopped speaking as much during the day, for fear of ‘Ringabel’s accent slipping through.

She propped herself up on an elbow, looking down at him. “I told you I wanted to keep it a surprise,” she laughed. He forced a smile. No, she actually hadn’t. It had been only Alternis she had said that to, though she didn’t seem to remember. “We can think of names without knowing for sure what we’re going to have.”

“Hmm, alright. I suppose you have something in mind already?”

“If it’s a boy, let’s name him after you. Alternis.” In an instant, the smile on her face vanished and she went pale. Alternis’s heart jumped into his throat, the air fleeing his lungs. He sat up.

“Edea?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. But she was trembling, and when he lifted an arm to wrap around her, she pushed him away. Sweat was beading on her forehead and he feared she would be sick. “You and Alternis, I mean,” she clarified, her words slow. “You don’t … mind that, do you, Ringabel? I know that you no longer use the name, but – it – it’s still yours. You grew up with it.”

“It is,” he said slowly. She was starting to have a panic attack, judging by the way her chest heaved. One of the walls had come down and she couldn’t bear it. _He_ couldn’t bear it. “Edea, darling. It’s alright. You’re naming the child after both of us. He would be honored.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she curled in one herself. “Would he be?” she managed to whisper. He was already beginning to pull the blankets up over her exposed form. “You don’t think he’ll be angry?”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Alternis replied, reaching for her hand. She held onto him, her knuckles white. The gentleness in his voice was unusual for him, but not an act. “If I know Alternis – and I do – he would be honored you named your child after their favorite uncle.”

She managed to crack a smile, teeth gleaming in the dim light of the stars through the window. “Its’ only uncle.” Tiz and Yew aside.

“Alternis Lee?” he said gently, his heart clenching at the sound. It wasn’t fair that his child would have the Lee name before he did, and yet… this was the least-worst of the injustices he’d had to face in the past year. “I like the sound of it. Now, take a deep breath for me.” She did so, her eyes closing. He counted her through a few seconds of breathing until color returned to her face. “See? It’s alright. All you need to do is talk to him tomorrow morning and ask him if he minds.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, her eyes looking up into his face. Something in them had changed. They were focused and concerned, and suddenly he realized – _no._ He changed the topic. “How about a girl, Edea? Do you have a girl’s name in mind? How about Mahzer, for your mother?”

Edea looked sufficiently distracted, her mouth screwing up with thought. “No, that won’t do. I love Mother, but her name is so old-fashioned. It’s not even in the top one-thousand most common Eternia baby names!”

“That’s not a bad thing…” The name ‘Alternis’ was in the top twenty, courtesy of his promotion to Council of Six and second-hand to the Grand Marshal. ‘Edea’ had climbed into the top ten in the past few years as she had grown in prominence. “Did you have anything else in mind?”

She squirmed out from under the blanket so that she could cuddle with him again, and he let out a sigh of relief that her momentary lapse was just that. He was too cowardly to confront her right now. Instead, he leaned his cheek against the top of her head. The baby was kicking just as strongly against his side, as though they hadn’t even noticed Edea’s panic. “I’ve been reading some books but nothing’s popped out at me. It’s easier to name the baby after someone I love.”

She loved him, he thought, and then harshly reminded himself that she loved the other man and that their birth names were the same. It meant nothing. “Well,” he said slowly, squeezing her shoulder. “We have some more time to decide. W-when I go back, I’ll try and read through some baby name books. I’ll tell you what I find.” He didn’t know if Ringabel had access to _any_ books in whatever place he worked, but Alternis had picked up a few during one of his errands in the city. He’d thumbed through them once or twice, but it seemed he’d need to sit down and force himself to read during the very little free time he had alone these days. “That might mean I may not be able to return for a days,” he decided to warn her.

A pout on her lips, she snuggled closer into his embrace. “Ringabel,” she whined. “Hurry back.”

“I will do my best.”

That was all he could do.

As the weeks went by, he threw himself thoroughly into his dual duties. At night, he was the loving, charismatic father-to-be with his beloved Edea and unborn child, going over plans for the birth with her, intimate details she couldn’t share with any other. During the day he was the dutiful, responsible uncle-to-be that supported his sister and childhood best friend as she navigated balancing her upcoming motherhood with her work. It made his head spin. Days passed as though he traveled through a fog, barely able to focus on anything but the immediate thing before him. If he thought too hard on what was going on around him, his head hurt.

One night, she brought up a topic he had been absolutely dreading.

“Why are you reading that?” he asked her that evening, sitting beside her. She was nearly upon her due date, and her stomach was so large it was comical. He’d had to suppress a smile more than once, even during the day, as he watched Edea waddle around Central Command. She’d not grown very much taller since her teens, and so the expansion of her belly was even more out-of-place on such a slender build. Getting out of bed in the morning required the use of a bar they’d had bolted into the floor at her bedside, and getting up from chairs sometimes required the help of another person. Her size also meant that she was usually not in the mood for any other sort of night-time activities. Alternis didn’t care, because Edea was still open to less sexual touches, like cuddling, especially when he threw in a back massage as well.

‘That’ was one of the worst tabloids in Eternia. In his opinion, the paper was so full of trash, it was only good enough to be used as kindling. The only reason he hadn’t had it shut down was that Edea was pushing freedom of the press. As she thumbed through it, he watched her stop on a two-page spread about her upcoming pregnancy. He groaned.

“What is it now?”

“A ‘source’ is telling them that the baby’s father isn’t you as claimed, but was instead placed directly in my womb from the crystal. There is no father, and the baby is going to be a girl to be the new Earth vestal.”

He snorted. That was new. “I’m sure the vestaling will be happy to hear that.” Several girls had been found over the years to be aligned with the energy from the crystals, and they were all undergoing training in Florem to learn how to be the next generation of Vestals. The girl slated to be Earth Vestal was very sweet, and she came to visit at least once a year. “That’s tame, for them.”

She hummed her acknowledgment. “Last time they claimed that it was a person from the moon, didn’t they?”

“Yes, I recall.”

After skimming through the pages, Edea sighed and set the paper aside, shifting from where she was sitting so that she could lie back against her mountain of pillows, including the giant plush one he had purchased for her during the reunion festival. It nicely cushioned her back and hips. Smiling at her, Alternis reached out to touch her belly, his heart clenching as the baby kicked against his palm, their little movement visible through Edea’s taut skin. Day by day, the child grew stronger and healthier. It made sense, given who their parents were, and Alternis could feel nothing but pride each time he looked over the sonogram pictures. As himself, he had no excuses to accompany Edea to her weekly doctor’s visits, so the photos were all he had. He poked back.

“They all wonder what I’m trying to hide, by not getting married to my child’s father.”

The joy he’d felt at his child’s healthy movements was extinguished. Cold filled his chest. He took a shuddering breath. “Edea…”

She was not married because she had denied his proposals, _twice_ , calling them rubbish. Calling him a _ninny._ Yes, perhaps his timing could have been more well-thought-out, but he had thought the world ending! Could he be blamed for wanting to declare his love to his beloved in their final moments? He withdrew his hand, turning away so that she couldn’t see the way his face crumbled. He couldn’t bear this. If she wanted to get married to him – he couldn’t. Not like this. He didn’t want to marry her like this.

“Do you remember when you proposed to me that once?” she asked him in a quiet voice. Her hand grazed his shoulder; it took all his self-control not to shove it away. He opened his mouth to mouth to remind her that he had proposed twice, but no – she was still thinking of that _vagrant,_ wasn’t she? Did that mean that Ringabel proposed to her as well? The thought infuriated him, and darkness filled his heart. “Have you thought about it again? I know that I told you that it wasn’t the right time, but – “

“It’s not the right time,” Alternis forced himself to say. He _could_ marry Edea. He could marry her now and be done with it, and all of his dreams would be fulfilled. He would have Edea, just as he had always wanted… except… he bit his lip until he tasted blood so that he didn’t cry in front of her. So that he didn’t rage or lash out. That wasn’t what _she_ wanted. She didn’t want to marry _him._ She wanted to marry _Ringabel_ , carry _his_ child, have a family with _him_.

What was he doing? How could he keep doing this to her? To himself? How could he continue whole, terrible act that was getting worse with time? He had thought himself kind, not confronting her about her delusions, but now he saw it for the cruelty it was. She would never get over her love if he continued to do this. He had to stop it, for the both of - for the three of them. His child deserved to know their father.

“What do you mean, it’s not – “

“I have to go,” Alternis blurted, standing. He wiped at his mouth as he reached for his cloak. “You know that, Edea. You know I can’t stay. I can never stay. You deserve better than this.”

Tomorrow, he would sit down with her and force her to see the truth. He _would._ Ignoring the sounds of Edea struggling to follow him, her stomach in the way of her attempt to get out of bed, he swept out of the room, steeling his heart.

His heart melted the next day the moment he set eyes on her.

“Good morning,” she said listlessly to him as he entered their office. He stopped in the doorway, apprehensive. Edea had been sleeping in as of late, at the encouragement of everyone, and she _never_ came into the office before he did. Looking at her now, he realized she probably hadn’t slept. Her hair was limp about her pale face, dull and tangled. Deep circles hovered under red, swollen eyes. As he watched, she turned away and rubbed at them, one hand going to her stomach. “Morning,” she said again, self-consciously.

“Good morning,” he finally replied. “Are you – what’s wrong?” he asked her. He wasn’t supposed to know.

She shook her head, tears welling up once more. “Nothing, Alternis. Let’s get to work. I want to finish early.” Even her voice sounded dull. A cup of black coffee was on the table in front of her. She wasn’t supposed to drink something that strong, he thought as he closed the door behind him.

“Are you quite sure you don’t wish to talk about it?” he asked her, coming over to hove at her desk. She shook her head again.

“I don’t, I’m sorry.” For one awkward moment, he continued to hover, chewing on a sore lip before deciding to go to work. He was making a mental note to send to the cafeteria for some water and some sweets when she grabbed his arm, startling. “I’m sorry,” Edea repeated, looking up at him. Desperation colored her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Edea?”

She opened her mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it, and slowly looked away, releasing his arm. She tucked her hand under her stomach. “I’m sorry, Alternis. I’m just not feeling well. I may retire to my rooms early.”

He longed to soothe her. To reach down and touch her hair or cradle her behind her neck and kiss her worries away. But then, he reminded himself, _Alternis_ never did such things. She only sought that comfort from _Ringabel. “_ Very well,” he told her. “You know I’m here for you whenever you need me, Edea.” But only as himself, he decided. She wasn’t feeling well enough for the discussion now, but once she was feeling better, he _would_ sit down with her. He would.

“I know.”

In the end, Alternis could not bring himself to speak with her, and Ringabel would not return to Edea for the rest of her pregnancy.


	4. please let this last forever

It was a blistering cold day in March when Edea went into labor.

“Ah!” she gasped suddenly, hunching over the conference table, her hand flying to her stomach. They were in the middle of a meeting with the Councilman of Education and a few of the board members of Eternia’s schools, and Edea had been standing to speak about the budget for expanding primary schools. Alternis’s chair toppled to the floor as he lunged to be at her side. Water puddled about her feet.

“My goodness, Lady Marshal,” Councilman Robinee gasped, hurrying to take her other arm. Together, both men helped her sit back down in her chair. “I suppose it’s time, then?”

She offered him a shaky smile, lips pursed slightly with her breath. “I suppose it is. Alternis?”

They had been planning for months what to do when Edea went into labor. He calmly nodded at her now, belying the nerves that fired under his skin. Without his armor, he had to force his face to look ever the part of the stoic Dark Knight. “I’ll call for your parents, Edea. In the meantime, to the rest of you, we’ll need to reschedule this meeting. I’ll have our secretary reach out to let you know when I’m available,” he said to the room. All those in attendance nodded their agreement, and filed out of the room quickly, wishing the laboring woman well.

The plan was that Edea would take three months of maternity leave to be with her newborn. Normal women had eight months, but Edea wasn't normal. In her absence, Alternis would take over day-to-day control of Central Command, with Braev Lee on standby in the event of an emergency, though only because he would already be in the country to see his daughter and grandchild. All major projects that came up would still require Edea’s signature and seal, though her approval was understood to be a bit delayed, given the circumstances, and after a month of resting, Edea would be available to sign off on other needs. They had several deputies who had been trained in all of their departments, from white magic research to demon training who would have authority to handle little tasks, so that Alternis wouldn't be overwhelmed.

Alternis had made it clear, multiple times, that he _would_ take some time off to be with his sister after she gave birth, and so no one expected him to do any work for at least a few days. Their third-in-command, Councilwoman Ilina, would watch over everything until he returned. Hopefully, all would go smoothly, but for once Eternia was the last thing on Alternis’s mind as he knelt down beside her.

“I’ve been feeling contractions for hours,” Edea confessed. Sweat beaded at her brow and she squeezed his hand as one now rolled through her body. He flinched.

“Why did not you say anything?” he asked her, feeling ashamed that he hadn’t noticed. She had been moving slowly all day, her hand often at her back or stomach, her breathing slow. Lady Mahzer, who had come into town the previous week with Braev so that they could be present for their grandchild’s birth, had mentioned that Edea had started feeling ‘practice’ contractions to prepare for labor. He’d thought it was more of the same. What a fool!

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said to him once she could. “I wanted to finish up the day.”

A stretcher was being brought in to take Edea to her room. While they had discussed taking her to the Central Healing Tower, just in case, Edea had pointed out they had a whole army of White Mages who were more than equipped to handle childbirth problems, along with her midwife who had volunteered to stay in Central Command in the days leading up to this moment.

“You’re more important,” he told her as he helped her into the stretcher. “You and the baby.” He had to bite his tongue before he blurted out that he loved her, because although he did, this was neither the time nor the place. In her eyes, he wasn’t the child’s father, after all… he was just Edea’s support.

In her room, just one floor down, chaos erupted. Edea was already six centimeters dilated, her midwife discovered with shock. The baby would arrive within hours. Her bed was so large that as they situated her on it, Mahzer easily lay beside her, and though there was also room for him, Alternis decided to sit in a chair instead. Braev pulled up another beside him. The White Mages hurried around them, preparing everything that they needed. There was hot water, a scale brought in, machines to monitor her heart and oxygen, machines to monitor the _baby’s_ heart and oxygen. Alternis held Edea’s hand; Mahzer didn’t have the strength to withstand Edea’s grip without being hurt. He did, and as a Dark Knight, the pain that burst from his bare fingers when she squeezed particularly tight only fueled his resolve.

“I wish Ringabel were here,” Edea breathed as a contraction ebbed away. Another one was right behind it, and she cried out as it peaked. Her knees drew back to her chest, tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wish he were here… ah!”

Mahzer and Alternis exchanged a glance. “I’m sure he would want to be here too,” Mahzer said to her daughter, pushing a strand of sweat-soaked hair from her face. She leaned over to kiss her temple. “Be strong, Edea. Know that he’s here with you in spirit.”

The father of the baby _was_ here _,_ Alternis wanted to say, but this was hardly the time. Edea needed him, in whatever capacity he could give her. This would have to do.

It was nearing midnight when Edea screamed her loudest, squeezing Alternis’s hand until he felt a crack. A baby’s first cry pierced the air, and he closed his eyes at the beauty of it. It was clear and strong, healthy. 

“It’s a girl!” the midwife declared, and he opened his eyes so that he could see her, his _daughter._ She was bright blue but quickly turning pink as she cried, angry at being born. Just like himself, he thought with a smile, watching as the midwife lay her out on Edea’s exposed belly. The woman tugged her hand from his so that she could cuddle her newborn close, holding her to her skin. Alternis watched, cradling his probably broken hand with the other. For a few moments, warmth like no other flooded his entire being. Before him was the love of his life and _their_ daughter, and he loved them so much that he felt sick. All the hardship he had endured, the pain and humiliation, he forgot all of it as he watched the baby cry, then settle, then stare up at her mother with milky blue eyes. His vision blurred.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

He had to wipe at his eyes before he realized Edea had turned to him, beaming. “S-she is,” he breathed. “Just like her mother.”

They let Edea hold the child for a few moments more before the white mages declared that she needed to be weighed and clean, and that Edea needed to be cleaned as well. They cut the umbilical cord, and though he wanted to stay at her side, Edea urged him to go watch over the baby instead. Mahzer nodded at him. Feeling beside himself and still giddy with the birth of his daughter, he followed the mage who took the baby over to the rolling table they had brought in, a pile of warm blankets at the ready.

“She’s a healthy girl,” the mage said to him, her cheeks flushed with joy. “You must be so happy. Congratulations, Daddy!”

The warmth left his body. His face fell. “I – I’m not…” He was, but he wasn’t. She couldn’t know the truth. No one could.

The mage looked horrified, face flushing red. “Oh, I’m sorry, I…” she turned away from him so that could focus on the task at hand. He stood there awkwardly, trying not to cry as he watched her weigh the child, measure her length, monitor her response rate and pulse, and scrub her until she was dry and warm. She was diapered, then swaddled nice and tight, and the mage finally brought her back over to Edea, who had passed the afterbirth and was now resting against her pillows. The bloody, wet sheets had already been changed, courtesy of vinyl bedding they had thought to use. She looked exhausted but happy.

They laid the baby back into Edea’s arms, and everything should have been perfect once more, but it _wasn’t._ Alternis sat on the edge of the bed. Her parents huddled around her, the whole Lee family. Mother, daughter, grandparents… but not him. He’d never been included, and he never would be included. He didn’t belong here. Even though the child was _his_ … he did not belong.

Braev looked up at him. “Alternis, come here. Come say hello to your d-“

“My new niece,” Alternis cut in, giving them a pained smile. Edea didn’t even seem to notice, as enraptured with her newborn as she was. “I… alright…” He shifted closer to Edea’s side, just next to Mahzer, given how much space Braev took up, and ignoring the narrowed eyes, the frown that the older man gave him.

“She’s perfect, Edea,” Mahzer said, smoothing her hand over the baby’s head. The girl was completely bald, and her face was scrunched and swollen. And yet, despite looking a bit like a kobold, Alternis thought she _was_ perfect. The most wonderful sight he’d ever seen. “Have you thought of a name?”

“Annette,” Edea replied. Alternis’s heart jolted painfully. That was one of the names he and Edea had decided on, many weeks ago. It had been his favorite suggestion, though they had never truly settled on a name before he’d stopped visiting her at night. So she had _remembered._ “I like Annette.”

“Annette Lee,” Braev tested. He nodded. “It’s a good name.”

They all took turns holding the child. Mahzer went first, cooing over her granddaughter and rocking her close. Braev had cradled the baby in his sure, strong arms. The child looked positively tiny against his biceps. Then, Braev had handed the baby to him, and Alternis had tried not to vomit in fear. What if he didn’t support her head correctly? What if, god forbid, he _dropped_ her? He leaned back into his chair – the only way he had agreed to hold her – and she settled into his arms, looking for all the world as though she belonged in them. Her eyes were unfocused and cloudy, but they gazed up at him all the same, curious and innocent. In her features, he could see himself. She had his nose. Her eyes were shaped more like his than her mother’s, and he wondered if the blue of them would fade to a hazel like his own as well. Her eyebrows were very fair, practically invisible against her skin. He touched a finger to her nose, utterly entranced.

She was his daughter. Seeing her, holding her, he could no longer deny it. Could Edea?

He spent three more days going in and out of her room. To the world, Alternis Dim was devoted to his sister and niece, and was supporting her in the continued absence of the child’s father. To the family, he was a pillar of strength. Mahzer was physically unable to assist Edea with some of her needs, and so Alternis stepped in to help Edea to the restroom and to help her walk around the hall post-birth. She leaned on him, clutching his arm as he led her about until she was sure enough to walk on her own. To himself, he was his own worst enemy. Edea held the baby often while she was awake, nursing her or simply giving her precious skin-to-skin time. Mahzer and Braev took turns holding her as well, proud grandparents. For his own part, he held her only when Edea slept, too fearful of triggering her if he cuddled his daughter while she was awake. For Annette’s sake, he stayed awake late into the night after everyone else had gone to bed, discarding his shirt so that he could hold his daughter to his bare chest, her skin impossibly soft. When the baby fussed for food in the middle of the night, he was already there to wake Edea and give her the infant to nurse.

Just _once_ , she confused him for the other man. When he corrected her, his heart tight and pained, because her mother was resting on an extra bed in the room just a few feet away, she hunched in on herself, upset. She cried, calling out for Ringabel to see his newborn.

After that, he decided to go back to work. Eternia couldn’t wait forever. There were reports to do. Paperwork to finish. This was what he could to help Edea the most. That was all he _wanted_ to do. They couldn’t go back to before. They _couldn’t._

So he threw himself into it, scheduling meetings and filling his days with mindless work so that he didn’t have to dwell on the thought that his daughter was just a floor below him. His daughter, who would never know him as her father. Come evening, he checked on Edea and Annette, said hello to Mahzer and Braev, then exiled himself to his room so that he could drink.

Drink dulled the pain in his chest, the spikes of agony that made themselves known throughout the day each time his mind strayed to the little being he’d held in his arms. Annette was perfect and innocent, a victim to her parents' lies and delusions. A part of him longed to protect her, but the other part just didn’t know how. Would it be better for 'Ringabel' to quietly fade into the night? Would he stand a chance of being with Edea if she mourned Ringabel as though he were dead and then moved on? Or would it be better for Annette if her father came around now and then under the cover the stars, never staying until dawn? The answers did not come easy, no matter how much he consumed.

Drink also fueled the anger and darkness in his chest. He cried more often than he didn’t, until he fell asleep with swollen eyes and a dry mouth. He dragged himself out of bed each morning, drank frigid water from his bathroom sink to rehydrate himself, and then would drag himself to work, hiding his tear-stained face behind his helmet, wearing his armor once more. Edea had long said he shouldn’t need to wear it during peace-time, but Edea was temporarily no longer in charge, after all. The Dark Knight asterisk was a crutch, but one he needed to get him through some of the darkest days of his life. He hated himself more with each passing day, with each moment that he was in Edea’s rooms, with each time that he laid eyes on Annette when he stopped by to see the family in the evening. She ceased looking like a goblin and more like a proper little human, a beautiful little girl that had her mother’s fair coloring and many of her father’s facial features.

Alternis hadn’t held her since he’d gone back to work. He kept himself in his armor every visit, an angry wall of metal and sharp edges, so that he would have an excuse not to.

Well-wishes poured in from the country, nobles and peasants alike. Gifts accompanied the letters from the nobles, donations to charity in her new child’s name, as Edea had stated publicly that she preferred. The tabloids ran several feature articles, some so full of speculation that Alternis became sick with rage, and he found himself sending such strongly worded letters in response that one of the rags shut down the next month. Her friends also sent congratulations, along with gifts from their home towns. From Agnes and Tiz, a felt blanket that Agnes had made from Tiz’s sheep. From Yew and Magnolia, a box full of children’s books. Alternis delivered them to Edea himself, but did not stay long enough for her to open the boxes. When Kamiizumi and Einheria Venus came to introduce themselves to the baby, he made cursory appearances, avoiding them as much as possible. They would see through him in instant, he was sure.

Annette was three months old when Edea started to head Eternia’s helm once more as planned. Everything had gone smoothly in her absence. Alternis had overseen the daily operations of Central Command and Eternia. He’d conducted meetings with the councilors just fine, and had sent the meeting minutes every day to Edea for her to read in her free time. She had sent back commentary or notes, along with her signature and seal on some of the bigger projects they were starting. Braev had not had reason to step in and help Alternis, and so he had been able to spend ample time with his granddaughter, alongside his wife who was busy teaching Edea everything she might need to know to be a good mother.

Annette came with her, bundled up securely in a sling against Edea’s chest, usually peaceful and asleep. Edea only worked for a couple of hours a day in the office, but every moment was hell for him. He longed to set his armor aside and pick up his daughter, cuddle her and kiss her little forehead. She was an angel, come down from heaven to remind him that his life had meaning. He’d helped create her, hadn’t he? That was all the meaning he needed.

Come summer, the Lees returned to the forest. Alternis had done all that he could to avoid being left alone in a room with either of his adoptive parents, anxiety roiling in his stomach at the thought of whatever conversation they may want to have with him. As they prepared to leave, they began to talk about moving back to Eternia for good, to be near their family.

“After all,” Mahzer said, leaning over to give Annette a kiss one last time before they departed. “If you have another baby, we want to be here for that as well! I don’t mind looking after her while you work, Edea. She’s so well-behaved and lovely. You and - you and Ringabel have done well.”

Alternis had been guilt-tripped into seeing Mahzer and Braev off, and currently hated each passing moment he had to stand next to Edea as she held her – their – daughter. He bit his lip behind his helmet. Due to his self-imposed exile from Edea’s room, he didn’t know what Edea and Mahzer had talked about in regards to the other man, if they ever had. What did Mahzer know?

Edea forced a laugh. “That’s a strong ‘if’, Mother. I think Ringabel and I are done with babies for the moment. He hasn’t even…” she trailed off, her smile wavering. “It would be nice to have you close in any case. Annette loves you!”

Braev frowned at Alternis over Edea’s head. Alternis did his best to ignore it.

“We love her too,” Mahzer replied, and her own smile was a bit unsure. “Send a telegram if you need us. Braev?”

“We’ll see you soon,” Braev said to Edea and Alternis both. “In a few months, I think. Take care of one another, and of Annette. Alternis, don’t forget those that depend on you.”

“I won’t, sir.”

They left in Braev’s old airship, and with them went Alternis’s ease. Now that they were gone, Edea would need more of his help with the baby. He could no longer beg off seeing her in the afternoon. He would have to make a decision soon, one he had been avoiding for months, even before Annette’s birth.

“Do you want to hold her?” Edea asked him as they headed back up to Central Command’s living quarters. “You haven’t, have you? Not since she was born.”

“My armor will hurt her,” Alternis pointed out patiently, avoiding the very obvious fact that he could simply remove his armor at any time.

“You can remove your armor at any time,” Edea reminded him, furrowing her eyebrows. Annette yawned in her arms. “Do you not like her?”

“What, no! That’s not it!” he exclaimed, horrified at the very idea. No, he _loved_ his daughter, loved her so much that he would kill for her. He already had. Thinking about her and her very existence filled him with a type of acceptance he hadn’t felt in many long years. He still wasn’t sure he could call it _happiness,_ but it was a feeling that had kept him going the past few months. Resolve, perhaps. Drinking wasn’t working as well anymore. After the first time he had binged to the point of passing out, then waking in his own vomit, he’d been cutting back. “I – I do love her, it’s just…” He went silent, and Edea watched him, and it was a very awkward ride up to her suite.

Once inside, he was bullied into removing his armor. The asterisk made it easy, the command to break his connection with it a simple thought. In the place of black, sharpened steel he wore a plain brown top and leather pants, and Edea looked him over as she unbundled Annette. “Have you lost weight?”

He had. He barely ate anymore. It was hard to when a straying thought to his situation made his stomach turn and his chest pound. Food was like glass in his mouth, nearly impossible to force down. “A bit,” he replied, rubbing his arm as he stood there uncomfortably. “I’ve been busy with work.” Edea was checking Annette’s diaper, and Annette was busy playing with her feet. He tried not to watch her squirms, pressing his lips together so that he didn’t smile at the giggles she made. How he desperately wanted to be closer to them…

“I’ll be coming back full-time soon. You can take it easy,” Edea reminded him. Though she was four months into her maternity leave, they had yet to secure a nanny that Edea felt comfortable with. Given her position, and how much leverage her daughter could be against the country, the background check process was _very_ intensive. Alternis was also involved with it, interviewing or sometimes interrogating the potential candidate. So far, no one had passed his test. No one was good enough to watch over his daughter. This meant that Edea had to take Annette into the office with her, and while the baby could be well-behaved with shorter meetings, she nursed too frequently to stay in longer ones without interruption. Though the Council members had all made it clear that they didn’t mind Annette’s presence, there were also times when she fussed and cried enough that Edea was forced to leave the room with her, causing everything to come to a halt. It was to be expected of a young child, but they needed a better solution. “Eventually. Here.”

Having determined that Annette’s diaper was sufficiently dry, Edea now passed the baby into his arms. Startled and suddenly terrified, Alternis tried not to fumble as he adjusted his hold on the infant, supporting her bottom and back with one arm, bringing the other up so that he could cradle her head. She stared up at him, blue eyes wide. Then, her face crumpled and she began to tear up.

 _He_ thought he might tear up. “Shh,” he said, stroking the top of her. “Shh… Pa– Precious one… I'm here.” _Papa’s_ here, he corrected himself mentally, glancing up to Edea to see if she’d caught his near mistake. She didn’t seem to have, judging by the smile she was giving her daughter as the baby settled.

“She just isn’t used to you,” Edea said, patting his shoulder. “You should have come to see her more often, Alternis. Now that Mother and Father are gone, will you help me?”

Annette burbled up at him. She reached up to touch his face with tiny little hands that didn’t know their own strength, hitting his chin painfully. She grabbed fistfuls of the hair he’d neglected over the past several months and pulled, and Alternis realized he was doomed. He loved her more than ever. “I will,” he promised, and the walls of pain that he’d built in his heart crumbled like sand before his daughter’s gummy giggles. He leaned over to kiss her forehead.

That afternoon, he stayed with Edea, learning how to change Annette’s diaper and he clothes. He sat with her for hours, talking about upcoming Eternian events, staying as she leaned into her pillows and nursed her daughter, the baby resting on her stomach. She’d lost most of the weight gained during her pregnancy by now, though not all, and Alternis tried his best not to let his eyes stray about her form. When Annette fell asleep, drunk with milk, it was he who carefully picked her up out of her mother’s arms and lay her out on the bed more properly, easing out of it to give her more room. He watched her sleep for a few long moments until Edea stood at his side, her arm slipping about his waist.

“I should go,” he said to her in a quiet tone, mindful of the baby. “I didn’t finish that report on taxes.”

Edea stuck her tongue out at him, grimacing. “You hate looking at tax reports. Stay with us a bit longer. Stay with me.”

Something in the tone of her just-as-quiet voice made his heart ache. It made something else, further down, pulse painfully. He swallowed. Smiled. Nails were in the back of his throat. “That’s why I need to get it done now. Once it’s completed, it’s over.”

“Fine,” she pouted. “But tomorrow, let’s have dinner together. The three of us?”

“We’ll see.”

That night, just a couple of hours later, ‘Ringabel’ returned to Edea. His hair was freshly cut, styled in a haphazard pompadour with gel he had raided the barracks’ lavatory for (he had thrown out the gel he’d previously used). He was tired. Alcohol was present on his breath. But he was _there_. Edea was asleep, curled up around one of her pillows with the baby sleeping against her stomach. Feeling a bit guilty that he was disturbing her rest when she likely needed every moment she could get, he shook her awake.

“Edea, darling,” he said, the accent stronger than ever. He’d also used some old, probably expired cologne, just to drive the difference home. “I’m back.”

Edea groaned, buried her face back into her pillow. “You’re….?”

It was almost comical, the way she gasped and sat up. Her eyes found his face, even in the near-darkness of her room, and she stared at him for a long moment as tears welled up. Then, she slapped him across the face. “Ringabel!”

Ow! That had been _completely_ unexpected, though not entirely undeserved. The force sent him reeling to the floor and he cradled his cheek with a gasp. Before he could do _anything_ , defend himself, demand an answer for the strike, she slipped out of bed and tackled him, sending them both back. He hit his head with a painful jolt, and suddenly Edea’s lips were on his, her hands tight around his collar. Desperately, the woman kissed him, her lips bruising in their eagerness. Groaning to himself, because the pain did nothing to keep his arousal away, he rolled them over until he could press her down, lips moving just as eagerly against her own. He wrapped his arms around her hips to hold her tight, she pulled at his shirt until the buttons tore, and the next few moments were a blur of hot breaths and quiet groans as they reunited for the first time in months.

He’d missed _this_ , most of all.

“I had the baby. You’re a father now,” Edea said to him, cuddling up against his shoulder as they breathed together, frenzy over. He stroked her back, legs tangled together with hers. “Why haven’t you come to see us?”

“I was on a long mission,” Alternis replied. The lie was easy. The mission was called _denial._ “It’s over, now. I can come see you two.” He stood on sore legs, stretching out the stitch in his side. The floor was not the most comfortable place they’d ever been together, though not exactly the least comfortable either. He reached for his trousers to tug them back on, lamenting the tears in the seam. Edea was too strong for her own good.

Edea stood as well, taking his hand and tugging him back over to the bed. “Come meet her! Our daughter.”

Annette was still sleeping, her cherubic face screwed up as she dreamed. Alternis reached down to stroke her arm. “Her name?”

“Annette. You said that was your favorite of our choices, right?”

“It was.” He was hesitant to pick Annette up when she was sleeping, but at Edea’s urging, he slipped his hands under the child’s back and lifted her up to his chest. She jerked her fists in her sleep, disturbed but not enough to wake. He held her tightly, breathing in her baby soft scent. “She’s… beautiful, Edea.”

“She looks like you,” Edea said quietly. Her arm slipped about his waist, just as it had earlier. Now though, there was a level of intimacy about the movement that made his whole body sing. He sighed and let Annette’s head rest against his bare shoulder. If she drooled on him, so be it. She was his baby girl, and he couldn’t deny her anything.

“I think she looks like you,” Alternis replied, smiling as he turned to look at Edea. “Certainly, one of the loveliest little girls I’ve ever seen. The both of you are a sight for sore eyes.” What was he _saying?_ He didn’t know. His words felt … wrong, which meant they were right. Judging by the smile on her face, he was correct. She leaned up to kiss him.

“You’re just saying that because you have to,” Edea teased. “She’ll wake soon to be fed. Until then, come rest with us.”

He slowly lowered himself into the sea of pillows, careful not to unsettle the sleeping child. Edea curled up against his side, her head resting on his other shoulder. She tugged a blanket up around his chest, and though there was an ever-present chill in the room, the warmth of her bare form, as well the warmth of his baby daughter’s breath against his neck lulled him into an unusual sense of security. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open as all the tension of the past few months fled his body. Everything felt right with the world, for once. _This_ was right, being with his lover and the child they’d created together, however it had happened. These minutes were a reality he craved.

Eventually, Annette began to cry, hungry. Alternis jolted awake, not realizing he’d fallen asleep in the first place. Edea had dozed off as well, judging by the sleepy groan she gave as she propped herself up on an elbow. “Let me have her,” the woman said, and Alternis obeyed, curling up on his side so that he could watch her cradle the baby close to nurse. Edea seemed half-asleep still, her eyes closed even as she held the baby in her arms, and amused at the sight, he reached over to stroke Annette’s cheek. The girl looked up at him, eyes wide. She grabbed his finger with a hand and held on tight.

“She likes you,” Edea said. One of her eyes had opened. “You… you’ll come back, won’t you?”

“Of course I will,” he promised her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I love you.” Those were words he hadn’t spoken in months, too cowardly to bring them out into the open. He had been afraid of how she might react, what she might say.

It was as he feared. “I love you too, Ringabel.” She kissed him back, and despite the spikes in his heart when she said _that name_ again, he accepted it. This was all he had. All he would ever have. If he wanted to be with her and to be with his daughter, he would have to accept the hand dealt to him.

Edea fell asleep in the middle of nursing her baby, and Annette dozed off as well when she was finished. Alternis picked her up once more, changed her dirty diaper (which woke her, though she did nothing more than let out an obligatory squall at the _indignation_ that was a cold baby wipe), and put her back on to the bed so she could sleep. For Edea, he wiped her chest off with a clean cloth, tugged the blankets over her shoulder, and kissed her forehead. Her eyebrows twitched, but she didn’t wake, which he was glad for. She needed the rest. Being a mother was hard on her, especially without her baby’s father at her side.

Well, no more, he said firmly to himself. He could sleep when he was dead. Edea and Annette _needed_ him.

For the next two months, he threw himself into both personalities once more.

Uncle Alternis, as the troops called him teasingly, assisted his sister with both her work duties and her childcare. He watched the baby during the few meetings that Edea conducted by herself – mostly with the troops, because she _was_ the head of the military and didn’t need his input when going over military exercises in their own territory. It was not unusual for someone to come in and see him holding the infant in his arms while he read over paperwork. When Edea brought Annette into conferences, Alternis was often the one who soothed the baby when she fussed or squirmed, feeding her with a bottle at times if necessary. Everyone seemed to think it _adorable_ , and once leaked to the public, the tabloids had a field day. He ignored all the whispers, all the embarrassing cooing from the female soldiers. Edea and Annette were his only priorities, though he did cringe each time he laid eyes on the one article that Edea saved, framed, and hung up on her side of the office about the “Nanny Knight”.

‘Ringabel’ visited his lover and daughter more nights than he didn’t, lavishing them both with long-overdue attention. Annette was cuddled and kissed until her laughter filled the air and his heart. It kept him going, even when exhaustion weighed down his limbs. He’d hold her in her arms and hum lullabies to her or read from one of the books that Yew had sent so that Edea had time to rest. His presence seemed to make her happy, especially during the quiet, intimate moments they had while Annette slept, and her eyes were bright and full of life. Every time she called him by the other man’s name, pain flared up in his chest, but as time went on… it dulled down to a pinprick that he barely felt. He knew he was being selfish, continuing to feed into a lie, but this was a necessary lie if he ever wanted to be happy. With her and their daughter, he _was_ happy, as happy as he could be. His life had been one of misery and pain, and by pretending to be the vagabond, indulging in the love and attention of his family, it was now less so.

When her friends eventually visited, Alternis avoided them as best as he could. Ringabel dropped in after midnight, when everyone else had retired and Edea was alone. She pressed him only once on trying to visit their friends while they were there before she set the argument aside – she too, seemed to understand subconsciously why he shouldn’t meet them – and the days passed in relative peace. Annette grew stronger each day. Her hair began to grow in, a pale blonde that looked nearly invisible in the light. She recognized Edea’s face, and then very quickly, his. She, and the life he and Edea were building with her, was his world.

On August 20th, the world as he knew it came to an end.

“Sir! There’s an urgent message from downstairs!” The leader of the 7th Eternian security squadron practically ran into his office. Edea was in Central Command for the day with Annette, shopping as an early birthday treat for herself. Alternis had been left in charge, which meant he’d been fielding interruptions all day.

“What is it?” Alternis asked, annoyed. Did the man not know he was supposed to knock? Who had hired him?

“There’s a man downstairs who insists on an audience with the Grand Marshal. He’s calling himself… Ringabel.­”


	5. please let it end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ringabel's return, Alternis falls deeper into despair. When Edea makes a shocking announcement, he falls to a place where he may not ever recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains depictions of suicide please proceed with caution!

Ringabel was loitering on the ground floor, steadfastly ignoring the soldiers who were coming down to gawk at him. He hummed idly to himself as he waited for an audience with the Grand Marshal, hands behind his back as he looked up at the new artwork on the wall. It had been years since he’d seen Central Command, and he had to admit, it looked nice. Renovations had been done, and the whole building looked more open and inviting. Less imposing fortress and more welcoming command center, as it should have been.

A familiar clanking noise came to his ears. He turned to see the Dark Knight Alternis Dim rushing from the elevator, his black armor gleaming in the torchlight.

“Ah,” Ringabel said, a smile playing at his lips. Alternis had his sword in hand. Ringabel should have expected such a welcome. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

Alternis came to a noisy stop and leveled his sword at Ringabel’s neck. He had his own at his hip, but knew better than to draw it out, at least not now, given that he was surrounded by Alternis’s soldiers. It wouldn’t do well to antagonize the entirety of Eternia.

“Why have you come here?!” The Dark Knight demanded, his voice muffled from behind the thick metal of his helm.

“Is that any way to welcome a man who’s finally returning home?” Ringabel asked him instead of answering, carefully raising his hand to push the sword a hair away from his jugular. “I’m done with my work with the… with my work.” Alternis knew of the Planeswardens, he was sure, but the rank and file soldiers surrounding them weren’t, and didn’t need to be. “Where’s Edea?”

“I don’t need to answer that.”

“I think you do.”

They were in a stalemate. Alternis pressed down upon him with angry, no, _furious_ Dark energy that had the soldiers surrounding them backing away. Ringabel smiled warmly as he bore it, pushing back with his own. What had Alternis so worked up, he wondered? Yes, he was a few years late returning to Edea, but he _had_ warned her that he didn’t know when he could return. Perhaps she had moved on to Alternis? The very thought made his heart constrict painfully in his chest, though he would have deserved it. If she had, well… he wanted to get some closure, at least. Apologize to her. Tell her that he had always loved her, and…

“The Grand Marshal is on her way back,” someone announced, and both men turned in that direction.

“Oh, was Edea in Eternia?” Ringabel asked, surprised. They could have _told_ him that. Alternis swore, a sharp word that had Ringabel’s eyebrow raising, and lunged forward to grab the other man’s arm. Ringabel attempted a step back, shocked. “Hey!”

“Come with me,” Alternis hissed. His iron grip on Ringabel’s unarmored arm left no argument. “You all,” the Dark Knight shouted so loudly that the men surrounding them jumped and Ringabel cringed. “Go back to your posts! Not a word to the Grand Marshal, do you understand? Whoever speaks of this will be on toilet duty for a month!”

“Harsh,” Ringabel muttered as Alternis began to drag him toward the elevator. “Ow, ow. I can walk on my _own,_ you know.” Even if he didn’t know where Alternis was taking him. Not the dungeons, at least, judging by the direction the elevator was going. They rode up in silence. The door opened on one of the top floors, and Alternis pushed him out. People were staring. Though he had long ceased to be embarrassed by such looks, he felt his face heat up all the same time. Something was off, wasn’t it?

Alternis shoved him into a little-used office, where he slammed the door so hard that it bounced off the frame, and the wood around the knob splintered as he locked it. Alternis was _enraged_ , having a fit that Ringabel could not remember ever experiencing himself. “What’s going on?” Ringabel asked, more than a little concerned. There surely had to be good reason for Alternis behaving in such a way… right?

“ _What’s going on_?” Alternis spat, turning to him. The man was practically spitting in his helmet. “You! You show up out of the blue and you ask me what’s _going on?”_

“I’ve been out of the country,” Ringabel reminded him. Annoyance was beginning to drift up. Was that all this was about? “I don’t know anything.”

Alternis was trembling, his hands fisted tightly at his sides. He slammed one down on a desk, cursing loudly. Ringabel waited for his childish fit to pass, and for long moments the two men stood there in silence, the air thick with tension, anger, and sorrow. Then, all at once, the fight fled Alternis’s body. He practically wilted, hunching over, a sob barely audible through the metal of his helm.

He couldn’t do it anymore, could he?

Alternis knew that now, he could no longer play at being Edea’s lover, and being his daughter’s father. That time had come to an end, and with it, any hopes he had of being _happy_. Before him stood the man who Edea’s heart had always stayed true to. He should have known… what had he expected? That he would live happily ever after? Such concepts weren’t meant for one such as him. Tears rolled down his cheeks freely, hidden behind his helmet. He sunk into a chair and tried to control his shaking, mindful of the hateful presence of the other man. This was the first time he had seen Ringabel in person, and he hated no one in the world more than him in this moment, except for himself. 

“I’m not _normally_ in the business of comforting men, but are you alright?” Ringabel’s voice cut through his grief.

“I hate you,” Alternis breathed. It made him feel a little better.

“I didn’t even do anything this time!” Ringabel protested.

“You _left_ her,” Alternis reminded him, looking up. His eyes ached with tears and his vision was hazy. Ringabel’s form swam before him. “You left her for five years! Why return now?”

“I told you before,” Ringabel replied. He leaned against another desk, arms crossed. “My work with the Planeswardens is complete, and they’ve given me clearance to return home for good. I _know_ how long it’s been, but I have no intentions of ever leaving her again, should she want me.”

“Should she…?” Alternis barked out an angry laugh. “She’s wanted nothing _more_ but for you to return. This whole time, her heart has belonged only to you! _You_ and you alone! Even when we had the baby, she – “ Alternis cut himself off. His face went cold. He – he hadn’t meant to blurt out such a thing. Ringabel’s arms dropped to his side, the man openly staring at him.

“What baby?”

His armor felt very restricting around his chest, suddenly. He was having difficulty breathing. There wasn’t enough _air_ coming through the filter of his helmet, and his vision was beginning to pulse dark at the sides. He found himself stumbling for words. “The... our…”

Ringabel’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“Her name is Annette.”

He blacked out then, and woke to his helmet being removed by a disgruntled Ringabel who loomed over him, looking disgusted. “So you’re alive,” the other man murmured as he blocked out the painfully bright lights from above. “For a moment, I had hoped you might have choked and died.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Alternis managed to mutter. With his helmet off, he could breathe easier. He closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to see his doppelganger’s disappointed expression. They sat there in silence for some time, until Alternis felt a bit less dead. His chest still hurt, but he didn’t think that would stop. Not ever. Not now that Edea was firmly out of his reach. He was being selfish, he scolded himself. Shouldn’t he be glad that Edea’s lover and Annette’s father had returned? That Edea would be _happy?_ Shouldn’t he?

He couldn’t be.

“She’s… nearly six months old,” he found himself saying. His thoughts drifted the little girl he had held in his arms just the previous night, nuzzling her nose to his. She was getting to be so big! “And she’s yours. Edea says so.” Ringabel’s name was written on the birth certificate, in plain black and white.

“Even with my amnesia, I think I would _clearly_ recall having conceived a child,” Ringabel replied flatly. Alternis didn’t need to open his eyes to imagine how the other man might be looking at him now. “You’re sick.”

Alternis swallowed. He had no good argument for that, because Ringabel was right. He and Edea both. Suddenly, the exhaustion of the previous few months was catching up to him, and there was no fight left in his system. He felt like giving up. After all, was there to fight for? The remains of her reputation, at least. “N – no, I… it’s not like that.”

“No?” Barely suppressed anger was audible in Ringabel’s voice. “What is it _like,_ then?”

“She needed the comfort. I gave it to her. I thought that by answering to… to the other name, it might bring her peace. I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”

“You deceived her.”

“No!” The very thought made Alternis ill. He sat up, ignoring the way his head throbbed with alarm at the sudden movement. He turned to Ringabel. “She knows. I swear to you, she knows. She just – she wanted _your_ child. Not mine.”

Ringabel had a hand to his head, looking for all the world like he wanted either a strong drink or to throw himself from the window. Alternis felt the same. “Are you _certain_ that she knows it was you?”

“She used to slip and say my name.”

“That doesn’t mean much,” Ringabel reminded him. “I may not use it anymore, but it’s my name as well. Ah, what have you gotten us into?” Ringabel bit his lip, rubbing at his cheeks with both of his hands. He sat back on his heels, looking disturbed. “She’s going to know, you realize. That I’m not the man she’s been with. Did you even think about that?”

No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t thought any of this through. He had been acting based on his _wishes_ and his _wants_ and now the three… _four_ of them were in a tangled mess. What would Edea think? What would she do?

What if he could no longer see his daughter?

Ringabel was pale, scrubbing at his face with his hand. Looking at him now, Alternis could see light purple circles under his eyes. His cheeks were somewhat hollow, his hair dull and greasy. What had the other man been through, he wondered, to come back to Edea in such a state? Instead of a triumphant, celebratory return, he had found himself in the middle of a terrible situation and with news of a child he’d never even _thought_ of.

“Sir Dim!” a voice from outside called for him. Both men stilled. “The Grand Marshal has returned and she’s looking for you. Sir Dim?”

Alternis swallowed glass down to his belly. “We need to think of a story.”

“I’m not lying to her,” Ringabel said, staring at Alternis with anger in his eyes. “ _You_ need to confess your wrongdoings. Edea deserves better.”

“I will with time,” Alternis lied. “At the very least, let me tell you what’s happened these past few months. You need to know.”

Later, the men would report that Grand Marshal Edea Lee had returned to Central Command with pep in her step and a baby at her hip, along with many new clothes and accessories for them both. She had been eager to return to her suite, but the presence of the milling soldiers on the ground floor had distracted her. When questioned, they had told her of the presence of the visitor as well as the confrontation that the Dark Knight had had with the man, and she’d immediately rushed to the Council Chambers, demanding that both be found and brought to her.

Alternis escorted Ringabel Dim up to the chamber. With his helmet off, their identical visage was out for the world to see.

Councilwoman Ilina stopped him before they could enter the room. “Sir Alternis,” she said, eyes wide. “Is that..?”

Alternis was sure his nervous grin was unnatural on his face. He tried his best to appease her shock. “My twin brother, Ringabel.” The guards around the door overheard him, as did some other eavesdropping busybodies who had left their posts to watch the whole event. Within the hour, Alternis was sure the whole tower would know. One more lie to add to the pile.

“It’s my great pleasure to meet you.” Ringabel’s smile was easier. “We’ll need to talk more later, I’m afraid.”

The door opened and closed behind them.

The Council Chamber had changed in the few years since Ringabel had last seen it. Instead of the plush chairs lining the wall, a large circular table was the centerpiece. A map of Eternia was cast into the middle of it, covered with resin. Notes and flags covered the map, highlighting places of interest that they discussed during their meetings. Chairs surrounded the table at all sides, with the largest on the furthest side of the room, against the wall. The Grand Marshal’s chair, a relic from the age of her father. Edea was sitting in it now, holding her daughter in her arms.

She looked up when they entered.

Alternis felt Ringabel stiffen at his side. “Edea, my darling, “ the other man breathed. There was such raw _feeling_ audible in his voice that it made Alternis’ stomach coil painfully. “I… I’m home.”

Edea was already standing, her shaking visible even from this distance. She circled the table, her eyes never straying from the vagrant, as though afraid he might disappear. Alternis worried she would trip, especially given the baby she held, but he held himself back from trying to rush to her side. Ringabel was moving as well, crossing the distance to the room so that the two of them met in the middle. An unwanted bystander, Alternis could do naught by watch as she threw herself into Ringabel’s arms, already beginning to cry. Ringabel’s face looked shiny in the light as well as he folded Edea into his embrace, burying his face into her hair. For long moments they held each other, mumbled words inaudible through their tears.

Then Annette began to cry. Ringabel leaned back to look down at the child in Edea’s arms who did _not_ like being smothered in their hug. She kicked angry feet about. “I’m sorry, little one,” Ringabel breathed. He and Alternis had come to a tentative agreement. For now, Ringabel would pretend as though he _had_ been visiting Edea all those months, at least until the initial shock of his return was over. Edea might be more receptive to discuss her child’s paternity afterwards. That was all he would agree on, and so Alternis had hastily brought him up to speed regarding the baby on their way up to the chamber. “That’s a cute dress.”

Edea was beaming up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “I just bought it today.”

“Tell me all about it,” Ringabel said. Edea was leaning heavily, so much that he carefully lowered her to the floor, where she immediately crawled over to sit on his lap. He grunted as he encircled his arms about her, casting a glance to where the Dark Knight was still hovering near the door. “I’m here to stay now, I promise.”

He didn’t need to be there any longer, Alternis realized. This was a family reunion, between Edea and Ringabel and the child they had together. He was just… an outsider. He didn’t belong.

“I’m going to take my leave, my lord.”

She waved a hand at him, not bothering to tear her eyes from the other man’s face. Tasting iron in his mouth, he fled the room. Drink was his only company that night.

Ringabel was formally introduced to the council members the next morning in a special, urgent session. A night’s rest and a good meal had done him well, and he looked much improved from the previous day. Alternis suspected a layer of makeup had also helped. _Dandy._

“Hello, it’s my pleasure to meet you all. My name is Ringabel, and I am very happy to be of service. Though I may not have been raised in here in Eternia, she is Edea’s country and thus, now mine as well. You, and she, have my full loyalty. ” He winked, then bowed, and Alternis wanted to reach over and punch him in the throat. Edea was standing beside him, holding Annette in her arms, her face still glowing with happiness.

“It’s very nice to meet you at last as well,” Ilina said, speaking for the rest who all nodded their agreement, murmurs of greetings floating up. “We’ve heard many things about you from Edea.”

Ringabel laughed, glancing at the woman beside him, who rolled her eyes only slightly. “All very good things, I should hope! Ah, but I know my darling angel has missed me terribly. So, I suppose they can’t be all good.” The smirk on his face was _infuriating._ Alternis took a deep breath so that he did not begin to spew dark magic in the man’s general direction.

“What are you planning to do?” one of the Councilmen asked. “Now that you are here in Eternia, for good, as you say, what are your intentions?”

The blond man nodded. “I’ve done enough adventuring for a lifetime, I think. For now, I’ll be staying at home with the baby. Edea and I spoke at length last night, and… well, most of that is private, I’m afraid. However, rest assured, I have no intention of stepping into the very nice system you all have here. I’m going to be spending a few weeks catching up on all I’ve missed, and after that… we’ll need to see which way the wind blows, won’t we?”

The council members did not look impressed. Alternis had that going for him, at least.

Ringabel excused himself from the meeting, leaning down to kiss Edea goodbye, and she handed Annette to him, who fussed as she transferred arms.

“I’ll watch her in your rooms,” Ringabel told Edea. He’d noticed the way that Alternis had straightened up in indignation. His helmet otherwise concealed his outrage. “Who better to babysit than her father?”

He was _very_ lucky that he held the girl, because Alternis would have otherwise thrown his chair at him.

“Lady Marshal,” Ilina said once the man had left the room. “Are you quite sure about this? He’s just reappeared out of the blue.”

Edea frowned. “I know Ringabel’s a bit – okay, he’s _very_ odd. But I promise you that you’ll find no man more loyal. I have confidence in his abilities, and I trust him. I know most of you have never met him, and I understand you may have… concerns. At least give him a chance? He’s got his reasons for being as secretive as he is.”

“Is he really Sir Dim’s twin brother?”

Alternis closed his eyes, wishing he could be anywhere but here. “Yes, he is,” Alternis replied for Edea. He imagined Ringabel had told Edea that was the story they were using, but he couldn’t be sure how much she knew. “We believe we were separated at a young age, though neither of us can remember exactly when. While the Grand Marshal rescued me and took me to Florem, Ringabel says he was taken to Caldisla instead.”

Edea nodded her agreement. “That’s where Ringabel and I met. I thought him familiar, but… I didn’t see it at first.”

Robinee laughed. “Hah! I remember how often Sir Dim used to hide behind his helmet. It’s no wonder you didn’t recognize him immediately.”

“It was the difference in style and mannerisms as well,” Edea said, an uncomfortable smile on her lips as Alternis scoffed. His helmet usage was _surely_ not the reason Edea hadn’t recognized the vagrant! “Let’s move on, shall we? Was there anything else to discuss?”

There were a few minutes more of discussion, mostly centered on Edea returning fully to work now that Ringabel had offered to stay at home and watch over Annette during the day. That meant that many of their projects could be pushed forward, resources permitting, and several of their deadlines could be appropriate re-evaluated. She asked the council members to prepare for their next meetings.

Alternis tuned out most of the conversation. In his role, he didn’t have _projects_ or budgetary requests. Edea trusted him to use his spy network for Eternia’s good, no matter the cost, and he was already planning to do what he could to find out more about these mysterious wardens that Ringabel had returned from. He trusted the man about as far as he could throw him.

“You’d like Ringabel if you knew him,” Edea said when he brought it up to her. She had retreated to their shared office, and was thumbing through a report that Ilina had given her during the meeting. “He’s very nice.”

Dark Knights didn’t _do_ nice, head injury or no. She was biased. “I’ll be the judge of that. Why do you trust him to watch Annette?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why _wouldn’t_ I trust him with Annette? He’s her father, Alternis! I know you haven’t seen him in years, but…” She trailed off, looking at a photo of the baby that was kept on her desk. “He’s her father.”

“That-!”

“Besides,” she said now, glancing back up at him. “He meets all our nanny requirements, doesn’t he? He’s bilingual, has Eternian citizenship, a degree from the military academy, a pilot license, magical abilities, can make potions and remedies, _and_ he has experience in childcare!”

“He does not have childcare experience.” _Ringabel_ mostly certainly did not. It was _Alternis_ who had spent all those sleepless nights with his child. What did Ringabel know? Probably not how to change her out of dirty clothes let alone her diaper! He could be dropping her on her head at this very moment!

She closed her eyes. “Look. Can you _please_ just give him a chance? I know… that you’re upset that he’s back, but…” Her face crumbled, tears springing to her eyes. Immediately, Alternis felt like a cad. “This is the best thing that’s happened to me in months. Annette and I need him.”

Alternis took in a deep, shuddering breath. He’d thought they needed _him._ What a fool. “As you wish, Grand Marshal.”

“Don’t give me that line,” Edea bit at him, scrubbing her eyes with her palm. “Ringabel says _you’re_ the one that decided that he’s your family, so. Act like it!”

“Edea!”

“Alternis.”

There was no reasoning with her right now, was there? He grumbled as he threw himself down in his own chair, pulling a file folder closer. If they continued arguing, it would end in shouting and tears, as well as a flipped desk. He’d already had to replace one, and didn’t really want to replace another for a few more years. After a few tense moments of silence, he had to speak up again. “If we’re twins separated at a young age, it’s to be expected we don’t quite see eye-to-eye, especially with his… flamboyancy.” 

She let out a deep sigh. “He’ll rein it back if you ask, I promise. Just… let him have some fun. Ringabel’s only just returned, and he’s tired.”

 _Ringabel_ was tired? Alternis was the one who had been running on two hours of sleep a night, trying to care for both country and family. Edea didn’t know what she was talking about. Not for the first time, a deep feeling of anger thundered through his veins. Everything he had done for her, all the time and energy and _dignity_ he had sacrificed, and this was his lot in life? It was unfair. Entirely unfair.

Suddenly, he could no longer stand to be in the room with her. Not if she was going to be deliberately blind to the truth in front of her. And yet, he didn’t have the energy to argue with her. What was the point?

The _one_ thing that he and Ringabel had agreed upon was that Edea’s happiness was most important. It was for that reason, and that reason only, that Ringabel was playing along. As soon as Edea seemed like she might accept the truth, Ringabel was planning to sit her down for a firm talk. Alternis had no good argument against it. He knew what he and Edea both had been in the wrong over the past couple of years. It was time, long past due, for the fantasy to end.

“I’m going to retire to my rooms early,” he said, standing. His legs felt weak. “I’ll have this paperwork finished by tomorrow morning.”

Edea looked up from her desk. “You’re leaving? Um, okay! Do you want to have dinner with me and Ringabel tonight? ”

“I’m sorry. I have to decline… I already have plans.” The lie came easily. He would _always_ have plans from here on out. “Goodnight, Grand Marshal.”

“Alternis, wait.”

He stopped in the doorway.

“You… know that you’re my best friend, right? I couldn’t have made it through the past few years without you. I… thank you.” He didn’t have to be facing her to know that she was standing up. Looking thoughtfully at him, her hand on her chest, lips pouted as they often were.

After a deep, painful breath he managed to respond. “I know, Edea. It’s you that I must thank.” For giving him a daughter, for all the good it was doing him now. Would he ever be allowed to hold her once more? “Goodnight. And… happy birthday.”

It was, after all, her birthday. He had planned to surprise her with something tonight, but he’d already thrown away his present and the decorations he had purchased. There was no point to them now, after all. How could he ever top the gift that was Ringabel’s triumphant return?

She gasped. Had she forgotten? “Oh! Thank you, Alternis.”

There was nothing else to say to here, nothing that could fill the gaping hole in his chest that had appeared alongside Ringabel. He made it to his room before collapsing on the floor, curling up into a ball and sobbing. His rooms had been made sound-proof many years ago out of necessity, and he took advantage of that now, screaming at the top of his lungs over the injustice of it all. For _once_ in his life, he had been truly happy, and now… _now_? What did he have left? Edea would soon be forced to see the truth and she would _hate_ him for feeding her delusions, rightfully so. He could never forgive himself. The moments in the night his with daughter were beyond his reach. He’d never have them again. He was… alone. Completely and utterly alone.

For agonizingly long hours, he kneeled on the floor in his room, stewing in pain that cracked his chest open, seeping it out for all the world to see. Then, he must have passed out at some blessed point, because he woke to being _manhandled._ “Up you go,” Ringabel muttered in his ear. His helmet and his armor had both removed. Had his Asterisk been taken from his body?!

Alternis jerked his arm out of the other man’s grasp, shouting. He scrambled to get to his feet, ignoring the way he swayed alarmingly. His legs nearly buckled. “Get out!”

“No, you get out!” Ringabel retorted and it was such an absurd demand that Alternis almost forgot to be angry. Almost.

“This is my room!”

“I know,” Ringabel replied, sounding weary. He held out his hand, the Asterisk stone on his palm. “I came to check on you. I know where the spare key is, you realize.”

Humiliation burned his cheeks. Snatching the stone from the other man, Alternis stormed away to his bathroom. At least _that_ didn’t have a separate key. “Get out.”

“Edea came to me, upset over some argument the two of you had. I wanted to make sure you were alright. Clearly, you’re not,” Ringabel said instead of acknowledging Alternis’s request. “Please settle down. You’re no use to her if you make yourself sick with anger.”

‘No use’ to Edea, as though that was all that Alternis cared about… damnit. Ringabel had his number. Alternis paused, his back still turned. “Why do you care?”

“You made her happy when I couldn’t. You cared for her while I was gone. I care because _she_ cares for you. Your methods aside, you supported her these past few years, and I am indebted to you.”

He sank onto his unmade bed, hunching over. “You should hate me.” Alternis hated _himself_ for all the mistakes he’d made over the past couple of years. From sleeping with Edea, to supporting her unhealthy fantasy, to being too cowardly to simply end it all now… his eyes pricked with new tears. He had thought himself wrung dry.

“I don’t think I could hate you anymore than you already hate yourself.” The bed dipped as Ringabel sat beside him, uncomfortably close. “You’re in a sorry state indeed. There’s no point in beating a man while he’s already down. Not when I could have easily done the same thing.” Alternis chanced a look up. Ringabel looked unusually grave. Such a serious expression seemed out of place, given the man’s typical airs. “I would do _anything_ to make Edea happy, no matter how foolish. You and I are in the same in that regard, as we are many others.”

His head _hurt._ He longed to be in Edea’s embrace, her arms a comfort. Instead, he’d never feel it again, would he? His earlier fit had drained him, and without being connected to his Asterisk, he felt weaker than ever. When Ringabel gave him a light, almost playful shove, he fell over onto the mattress with a quiet groan. “Spare me the poetics. Why are you really here?”

“Very well. I’ve come to ask you a favor. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“What is it?” What did Ringabel possibly need from him, especially given his current mess of a state? Grief was making his mind hazy. Anger was dulling his senses. He was tired and simply wanted this terrible day to be behind him. It was often he longed for sleep, but now his body begged for it.

“I need your help learning how to be Edea’s lover.”

Horror filled Alternis so completely that he forgot about his misery. He sat up and stared at the other man, his face warming. “Wha- are – what? Are you serious?” Surely he hadn’t heard him correctly. Surely the man had more experience than he? Alternis was certain he knew hardly anything in comparison!

Ringabel looked embarrassed, to his credit. “We’ve only kissed, but she’s hinted that she wants more. And _I,_ I’ll have you know, am a virgin.”

“You are not.”

“Alright, listen. That _one_ time in the academy doesn’t count!” Ringabel hissed. The blush was spreading down his neck. “It was - you know what it was. I haven’t actually had sex with anyone. You, on the other hand, you know how to _please_ her. I want to do the same.” Alternis did know what that time in the military academy was, and no, he usually didn’t count it either. But he was _not_ about to give this man any tips on sleeping with the woman that he loved. If he wanted to do it so badly, he would need to learn the hard way, as Alternis had.

“No. Figure it out yourself.”

The other man sighed, frustrated. He scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Please. Imagine how it might be for her to suddenly have a lover who’s forgotten everything he learned? Would it to be too much for her to bear? Would she know _why?”_

Alternis wanted to point out that Ringabel _did_ have memory problems. Edea had commented on them once or twice, outside of the man’s amnesia. But the implication of what Ringabel was saying wasn’t lost on him. He too, was being a coward. There was solidarity in their shared temperament. Did he have the energy to argue? It was so tempting to just… fly into a mindless rage. To throw a punch at the other man, to shout at him, to hurl dark magic at him until Ringabel’s form lay shattered before his feet... and yet, the idea of action was too much. Would there be any point in doing so? Nothing, not even his reputation, truly mattered anymore. It wasn’t as though Alternis would ever have a chance to be with Edea again, after all. Not now that _Ringabel_ was here.

He opened his mouth to tell Ringabel to screw off. Then, he looked into the other man’s earnest eyes and said instead, for some reason, “I’ll tell you, perhaps, but… you owe me one.”

“I said I’ll make it worth your while.” The little smirk on Ringabel’s face was utterly aggravating. Alternis didn’t need the Asterisk to use Dark Magic, only to use it _well._ With that in mind, he sent a Black Bane in the other man’s direction, who dodged it easily. It fizzled out harmlessly against the far wall, but Ringabel put some space between him and Alternis anyway, dragging over the chair from Alternis’s writing desk and pulling out his ever-present, very worn notebook to take notes.

Ringabel finally left him after midnight. To Alternis’s surprise, he revealed that he and Edea were sleeping in separate rooms. Ringabel explained that he had begged Edea for his own space, not least because he had a multitude of belongings that had been transported to Eternia from the Grandship all those years ago, and he’d wanted to sort through them all to decide what to keep and what to throw out. It made no sense for him to move everything into her suite just to throw them out later. It also gave him time to be alone and think about the lover and daughter he didn’t know he had.

“I already love that little girl as though she were my own,” Ringabel had said as he tucked away his notebook into a pocket. “But she isn’t; you and I know this well. I’d like for you to be able to spend time with her, but… You’ve gotten us into quite the pickle, Alternis. I don’t know how to fix this without breaking her heart or yours.”

His heart was already broken. Still, he wasn’t sure how he felt about his hated doppelganger being the most compassionate person in the tower. He supposed it made sense, in some terribly twisted way. Ringabel and he were sewn from the same cloth. They were the _same person_. If there was anyone who knew how he felt, it was the man who shared the first twenty-three years of life with him, even if Ringabel couldn’t possibly understand the humiliation of being passed over for himself. However, he still hated him. Hated everything about him. Nothing would make him get over those dark feelings, even if Ringabel did continue to check in on him throughout the next few days, always under the cover of darkness.

Alternis passed those days in a painful cage of his own making. His heart twisted each time he saw Edea laugh and smile, especially when Ringabel would visit their office with Annette. He stewed in his corner, the darkness thick in his mouth and tasting like blood, as Ringabel cooed over the little girl whenever Edea held her, spouting flowery words of love and admiration. It was _sickening._ How could he say that with a straight face? How could he _look_ at Edea and the baby with a straight face, knowing all that he did? Ringabel told him, during his quick nightly visits, that he was trying to nudge Edea as carefully as he could into acknowledging that he changed, at least somewhat, but she was proving stubborn.

What hurt the most, though, was not Edea’s betrayal. He had known, deep down inside, that Edea loved Ringabel deeply and that she had eyes only for him. It made sense for her to delegate Alternis to the sides, now that he had returned. Annette, though… Annette _loved_ Ringabel, and that stung more than any wound ever had. The little girl was just as attached to Ringabel as she had been to _him_ , shyly laying her head on his shoulder as he carried her about and showed off her cute outfit of the day to anyone and everyone. She had recognized him as her father instantly, too young to be able to tell the difference. Alternis tried not to feel resentment, but that was proving difficult. His heart grew darker as the days passed.

Though he was tempted to turn to drink once more, he had lost his taste for it. It tasted too bitter in his throat, and it no longer took the edge off his agony as it once did. Drink dulled his mind too much for him to function during the day, and that would be no good. He’d make mistakes, lose his usefulness. Instead, he turned to more destructive methods, desperate for something to distract his mind from the ever-growing pain in his chest. Blistering hot showers turned his skin tight and red, hidden under the Dark Knight armor he refused to change out of in public. Welts crossed over his arms and thighs, easily covered by his clothing during the quick minutes he was alone with others in private. Dark Magic bubbled in his chest, taking his breath away. He felt stronger than ever, though weakening ever day.

Ringabel could tell something was wrong, but he never asked, and Alternis never said anything. Instead, they spoke about Edea. Ringabel was trying to get her to see someone, _anyone_ that she could talk to about the long years he had been away. He’d pointed out to her that even though Alternis was her best friend, it wouldn’t be fair for her to vent to him about Ringabel’s his absence and return, knowing how the Dark Knight felt about him. A professional would be just the right person. Privately, Ringabel had said to Alternis that a professional might be able to get her to see reason regarding Annette’s conception. So far, Edea had only considered it, not seeming to take the request seriously at all.

Sometimes they spoke about Annette. Alternis missed his daughter desperately. With Ringabel watching her during the day, he had no good reason to hold her for more than a few cursory moments when she was brought to the office, which wasn’t often. Too many meetings. Eventually, Ringabel moved into Edea’s rooms so that he could continue to watch her during the night, alongside Edea, and Alternis had even _less_ reason to hold her. Why would he? She liked her uncle well enough, but she loved her father more. Alternis couldn’t bear to see it, and Ringabel’s late-night visits became more infrequent as the Dark Knight withdrew further and further into his pain, lashing out at those around him, all but Edea and his daughter. He was aware that he was spiraling into a dangerously dark place, but could not bring himself to care.

It no longer mattered.

“Alternis,” Edea said to him one day, several weeks after Ringabel’s return. He looked up from the report from Eisenberg he’d been trying to read for the last thirty minutes through Ringabel’s obnoxiously loud laughter. It was giving him a headache. _Why_ Ringabel had decided to show up out of the blue today, he didn’t know. “Could you watch Annette for a few minutes? Ringabel hasn’t been to the new wine cellar, and you know I’m not allowed to bring her in there.”

“I… alright,” Alternis agreed slowly. When was the last time he’d had a chance to be alone with his daughter? A couple of weeks, at least. It was hard to be apart from her. Casting away his Asterisk armor so that he wouldn’t hurt the girl, he accepted her readily in his arms, where she giggled gleefully at him, her hands clutching the long-sleeves of his top. He smiled at her, his eyes suddenly feeling hot and warmth spreading from his heart. His little girl, home in his arms at last. He needed to cherish these moments.

Ringabel took Edea’s hand. “We’ll be back soon. But not too soon!” The smile that he gave Alternis was a bit too knowing for the younger man to believe that he hadn’t been aware of the wine cellar’s rules. He’d done it on purpose so that Alternis might be able to spend time with Annette. Jerk.

Left alone in the office with the infant, Alternis leaned back into his chair and sat her on his legs. She burbled pleasantly at him, sticking her fist in his mouth and looking at him with wide, innocent eyes. They were just beginning to darken to a more brownish hue, losing the baby blue that he had come to love. He kissed her forehead. “You’re going to be beautiful when you’re grown,” he murmured at her. She smiled at him, all gums and a bit of drool that he ignored. “I wish I could see it.”

When Edea and Ringabel returned, taking much longer than he expected, Annette was cradled in one arm, leaving him with only one hand to flip through the papers in front of him. She had fallen asleep against him, and he had been reluctant to move her into the bassinette Edea kept in the room. He looked up when the other two entered. Edea’s hair was out of sorts, and Ringabel looked dazed, his ears red. Disgusting. It made Alternis wonder: were they having sex yet? Was Ringabel pleasing her as Alternis once had? He felt sick at the very thought.

“Sorry it took so long,” Edea said to him. She slipped her hands expertly under Annette’s form and lifted her up so that Alternis’s arm could be freed. He kept his face carefully even, eyes darting over Annette’s face to see if she woke while her mother held her. “We um, we got sidetracked.”

Ringabel was hovering behind Edea, eyebrows furrowed. He looked… uncomfortable, for some reason. Alternis frowned. Had something happened? “Sidetracked?”

“Ringabel and I are going to get married,” Edea said, and he could not stop the shock from blossoming on his face. It was though she had stabbed him in the gut, twisted the knife, and spit in his face for good measure. Ringabel’s eyes were casting over his face, concerned. Edea’s next words were drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears, the ragged breathing that ripped through his lungs. He nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to, not caring.

 _Married_. Had Edea proposed, or had Ringabel? Did it matter? Wasn’t this what Edea had wanted, all those months ago? She was going to be married, and he would forever lose her. Of course, a tiny voice spoke up, you never had her. Ringabel. It was always Ringabel. _Ringabel_. What did Ringabel have that he didn’t? Why had Ringabel won the proverbial cosmic lottery? Why… why wasn’t life fair to _him_? Why wasn’t _he_ allowed to be happy?

He jolted back to the conversation when Edea waved her hand in front of his face. “Alternis?”

“Yes?” His voice betrayed his confusion. He stared up at her. What had she been saying?

“Did you hear me?”

“Forgive me, repeat what you just said?”

“I asked if you would be my witness. And if you could watch Annette while we go on our honeymoon. It- it will only be a day or so, but I’d like the time away from Eternia, and she’s always liked to spend time with you.”

“Very well,” he agreed on instinct, feeling dazed. What honeymoon? Witness? Oh, right… she was…

“Edea,” Ringabel finally stepped in, grasping his new fiancée’s elbow. She looked up at him. “We can make plans later. Let’s not rush things! Your parents won’t be here for another couple of months, and didn’t you want them to attend?”

“I do, I do… I’m just so excited, Ringabel. I’ve waited five years for this.”

“As have I,” Ringabel said. His arms encircled her and the sleeping baby she held. “However, we can still take things slow. I’ve nowhere to be but home, after all.”

Alternis watched the scene with a heart that felt like lead. Where before passionate rage had churned, there was now emptiness so vast he couldn’t see the bottom of it. The very idea of trying to crawl out this chasm, to _feel_ again, was unfathomable. A deep, unending sadness filled him as he watched the woman he loved more than life itself beam in the arms of her lover. Snippets of her words breached the static in his mind. She was happy. Annette would have her parents married. They would be a family.

A family that he had no part in.

He’d never had a part in it. From the very beginning, it was Ringabel who had been in bed with her, and it was Ringabel who had been the father of the baby she’d birthed. Once more, like he had countless times in the past, he cursed every foolish decision that had lead to Edea’s fantasies becoming reality. He should have left well enough alone. He should have never _tried_ to make her happy. He shouldn’t have been so selfish to include himself in her happiness as well.

“Congratulations.” The words spilled from his lips, spat out like a poison. His chair clattered to the floor as he stood. “Excuse me. Forgive me. I forgot I – I have an urgent meeting with someone.”

“Alternis?”

“Alternis, wait!”

Leaving the two behind, he left the room, door slamming. His steps were sure. Almost manic. His path was clear before him. He had no future in Edea’s life, in her family. His daughter would know him as her uncle Alternis, the man who had stepped in to help raise her until her father returned. He’d given everything to them and now there was nothing left to give…!

Going to his room, he locked the door behind him, barricading it for good measure. He imagined they would break it down at some point, but by then…

He had some time. Edea probably wouldn’t even notice until he didn’t report to work the next morning. That gave him hours, and it felt like hours that he poured over his last words, writing out his feelings over and over again in his journal until they made some sort of sense. The rejected pages, he burned in the fireplace. The remainder of his thoughts, words he’d long to say to Edea for _so_ long, he folded and sealed with his wax stamp, so that she could not deny him any further. In his last words, he’d detailed his sins. Apologized to her for the harm he’d done to them both. Assured her that this was not her fault and that he still loved her. That he’d only ever wished for her happiness, and so it was for that reason he no longer wanted to _be there_ to interfere.

To Ringabel, the letter was short and succinct. A threat. A warning. A reminder to the other man to take care of his family, always.

And to his daughter… he couldn’t leave her without an explanation and an apology. Tears smeared the ink, but he wrote out his love for her, his precious child, all the same. His sorrow that he couldn’t see her grow. His wishes for her future. His reassurance that _she_ was the reason he had held on so long in a world filled with injustice.

The letters went on his desk, and his chair to the middle of the room.

Alternis worked woodenly, his mind elsewhere even as his shaking hands tied together his bedsheets, threw one end over the rafters above him. He discarded his Asterisk stone to the floor, not wanting the innate abilities of it to interfere. Would Edea be sad? Understanding? Or would she be angry with him? Annette was likely too young to remember him, so would they speak fondly of him when she was older? Would they speak of him at all? He wouldn’t know.

The pain would be over soon. The emptiness in his chest would hopefully fill his mind, giving him peace he had never felt before. He _needed_ this, needed this hell called his life to end. Even his tears seem to have come to an end, his face strangely dry as he kicked the chair to the floor, the sheets around his neck tightening under his weight. Somewhere, someone was pounding at a door. Or was that his heartbeat?

Instinct told him to fight against the sudden lack of breath. His Dark Magic could cut through the silk sheets, should he use it. But he didn’t. He fought for control, his hands clenching into fists until his palm felt wet. His vision was going black. His lungs were bursting with a different type of pain, one that was physical and sharp. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t hear through his frantic, dying pulse as the door was suddenly blasted open by a fireball.

Were those screams of the damned already? They knew his name.

Pain burst from his neck to the side of his head, and Alternis lost consciousness as he fell into open arms.

* * *

“Alternis?”

“Alternis, wait!”

The door slammed behind the fleeing Dark Knight so loudly that it startled the baby awake, and she immediately began to wail, her face screwing up with displeasure. Edea swore under her breath, cradling her daughter close. Ringabel placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes watching the door that Alternis had run out of. Something in his gut twisted, a sickening feeling.

“Seriously, what’s his problem?” Edea grumbled, moving over to sit in her chair so that she could nurse Annette properly. “I know he doesn’t really like you, but… I didn’t think he’d be so angry.”

Ringabel offered her a weak smile. “You sprung it on him so suddenly. The poor man must have just received a shock. Be gentle with him, darling.”

It had been a shock to him as well. He’d only intended to give Alternis a bit of time alone with his child, since the other man had been lashing out more than usual lately. He knew from his talks with Alternis that he adored his young daughter and missed spending time with her, and had hoped that being able to connect with her once more would soothe his troubled heart. 

Ringabel had _not_ expected Edea to pull him aside into her room on their way back from the wine cellar so that the two of _them_ could have some precious time alone as well. Though he had moved into her suite recently, which meant he slept and woke with her daily, the baby was always there as well. He didn’t normally mind, but he hadn’t realized how much he missed being alone with Edea until she had gotten him into their bed. His lessons with Alternis had been helpful, but he was discovering that the only way to improve his skills would be with first-hand practice, which she was eager to give him.

Then, after they redressed, she had proposed. He had been surprised – for many reasons, not least that she had _beat him to it_ – and could only listen as she explained that she had waited long enough, that they both knew of each other’s feelings, and that they should properly be a family! That last item had given him pause, but he had said yes all the same, and as he opened his mouth to talk to her about that whole ‘family’ thing, she was already tugging him upstairs to give Alternis the good news.

The very good, very bad news. Ringabel would have liked to break it to him much, much easier.

He should go after him now, but…

Edea was leaning back in her office chair, Annette curled up against her stomach and chest as she nursed. The girl was beginning to snack on baby food, mashed up fruits and veggies that Ringabel didn’t think tasted at all like the products they were supposed to be, but she still relied heavily on Edea for nutrition and comfort both. He couldn’t leave her alone like this, not when both she and the baby were upset.

Annette wasn’t his daughter, not _actually_ , even if technically she was given that he and Alternis were the _same person_ , but he’d come to love her as his own. She was adorable and sweet, and caring for her gave additional meaning to his life. After the hell that his life had been in the past decade, something as simple as caring for a baby was fulfilling. He’d die for them both, he was sure of it.

He pulled up a chair beside her. “Don’t be upset, dear. You know he’s sensitive.”

Edea leveled him with a glare, her hand running carefully across Annette’s face. “Being sensitive isn’t an excuse.”

“I could talk to him,” Ringabel offered. He scooted close enough that he could rest his head against her chair, reaching up with a hand so that Annette could grasp his finger. She gazed up at him, eyes still wide and teary. Alternis would hate to know that he’d upset her. “I don’t think he hates me as much as he used to.”

Edea was quiet for a moment before she sighed. “Then it’s me that he’s mad at. I know he had … has feelings for me, but I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear that the man I love is you, Ringabel. Alternis is my best friend.”

“I think he knows that,” Ringabel replied. Alternis was very aware of that. “Still, the sudden news of our – ah, our engagement on him must have been a nasty surprise. He’ll be good in the end, just give him time.”

That feeling from before, of something _dreadfully wrong_ , bubbled again at the mention of time. For a moment, he worried they wouldn’t have time. Alternis had been incredibly upset, not even stopping when Edea had cried out his name. Was he alright? It wasn’t his place to speak out, but he had been worried for Alternis for a while now. He was a Dark Knight, after all, and Ringabel knew those tendencies better than anyone else. It was far too easy to accidentally go overboard.

He attempted to stand, but Edea had started to lean against him, and so he could do nothing more but wrap his arms around her shoulders and hold her close while he waited for Annette to finish. Edea was a big proponent of “free nursing”, feeling that if she could eat as much as she wanted without pressure, then it was only fair that the baby do the same.

Once Annette was done, Ringabel’s limbs were practically vibrating with anxiety. He was going to throw up. No, he’d go check on Alternis and then throw up. “Alright, then I’ll go to see him now,” he told his fiancée, not waiting for her to answer. She seemed too preoccupied with Annette to do more than wave him away.

Ringabel headed for the emergency stairs rather than wait for the elevator, hopping down them with such speed that a distant part of him worried that he might misstep and break his neck. Alternis’s room was only two flights down, a familiar path he had taken multiple times, though usually not when the soldiers could see him approaching the door to knock.

“Alternis,” he called through the thick wood, aware that even with the soundproofing, the door was spelled inside and out so that the Dark Knight could hear messages. “Open the door. I want to talk to you.”

There was no response. Ringabel waited impatiently, his heart counting away the seconds.

He knocked again, a bit louder. “I’m coming in if you don’t answer!” If Alternis was having another breakdown or a fit, he’d be reluctant to talk, but Ringabel would make him.

“Sir?” A soldier said, approaching him. “What are you doing?”

Ringabel turned to give the brightest smile he could bear under the circumstances. His stomach was in knots. “Alternis said he wasn’t feeling well and came down. I wanted to check on my favorite little brother. Did you see him go in?” He’d assumed Alternis was in his room, but maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was wrong.

“Earlier yes, but…”

Ringabel was already fishing the key out of his pocket. “Edea knows I’m here!” In Central Command, Edea had given the edict that Ringabel’s word was as good as hers, with few exceptions. Ringabel typically used those powers for good, not evil, though it was tempting now and then. Right now, he was invoking her rules for good.

With the door unlocked, he pushed it open … only to be blocked from entering. Something was in the way... why? He shoved his shoulder into it, succeeding in only pushing it open an inch or so. “Alternis! Open the door!”

Something about the room made him uneasy. A slight creaking noise reached his ears, and he pounded at the door again, ramming against it until his shoulder hurt. “Alternis!”

The guards were beginning to catch on to what was happening. The one who had come to speak with him rammed his shield into the tiny opening, attempting to pry the door open. Two more came over to help, kicking at the door. Whatever Alternis had pushed against the door was caught on something on the other side, Ringabel realized. Panic was setting into his limbs, telling him that it would take too long.

“Stand back!” he ordered.

He didn’t have the Asterisk on hand, but he had long mastered Black Magic. While he might not be able to control it well, a Firaga aimed at the door would be enough to weaken it and the object behind it enough for him to push his way through. Screaming the spell, and hoping that the extra volume in his voice would help it pack a punch, he flinched as the door burst apart, splinters flying into his face.

The barricade – spears that Alternis had shoved through the handles of the door to keep them together – clattered to the floor in pieces. Ringabel pushed his way into the room, looked around and –

His stomach dropped at the sight before him, a sight that he – _no one_ ever wanted to see. Behind him, a guard shouted. Ringabel shouted as well.

“Alternis! No!”

No. No, no, no.

A sensation very familiar to that dreadful June 16th, eight years previous, was blossoming in his limbs at the sight of the body before him. White-hot horror was lighting all his nerves aflame, bile tickling the back of his throat as he fell to his knees, staring. This… couldn’t be!

He’d known Alternis was upset, but to be this upset? This lost? Even in his darkest days, Ringabel had never seriously considered such drastic action. They’d made a mistake, all of them. When Edea found out… Edea!

Alternis’s hand twitched, blood dripping from his fingers.

Ringabel acted on instinct.

“Black Bane!” he gasped, throwing his fist up and forward, dark magic crackling from his fingers. He’d intended to aim for the sheets wrapped around Alternis’s neck, but he barely realized what he was _thinking_ , let alone _doing,_ and blood sprayed out from the other man’s shoulder as the Dark Magic connected. The sheets split, disintegrating before the might of his power, but he could already see the gash that opened up on the side of Alternis’s neck as the skin split as well, blood streaming out.

The man fell, cushioned into the arms of a guard who had been brave enough to come close when he’d seen Ringabel’s use of magic and realized his intentions. He was limp, his face a ghastly blue and quickly paling as the rest of his life-force drained out of him. For a moment, time stopped. Then Alternis gasped for air, choking on a crushed throat, and Ringabel crawled over to him, hands shaking.

“Call for a White Mage!” someone cried. “He’s bleeding out! Sir Dim!”

“There’s no time,” Ringabel replied tersely. Up close, he could see just how large the wound was. He’d meant to save Alternis’s life and was going to end up killing him instead? No. He knew White Magic as well. He shoved his hands against the gushing wound, ignoring the nauseating sensation that was Alternis’s lifeblood flowing out over his fingers, and whispered all the healing incantations that he remembered. Cure, Cura, Curada, Curaga, he went through them in order as slowly, the seconds seeming like _years_ , the blood flow stopped and the skin healed, turning a purplish-black, then yellow, then a deep pink, scarring shut.

Ringabel leaned back on his heels and stared at his hands. Blood soaked into them, dripping down his arms and onto his knees. The rug, that ugly old rug that had been a gift from a nobleman years ago that Braev had forced upon him, was a deep, glistening red. Alternis was very pale, though the healing had cured even the deep, dark bruise that had circled his neck and jaw. He could only hope it was a good sign, that he’d remembered enough to make a difference.

He continued to stare at his hands even as several armored hands pulled at his shoulders and helped him stand, giving a pair of White Mages room to cluster around the Dark Knight lying prone on the floor. He was made to sit on the edge of Alternis’s bare, stripped mattress, the deep red of blood on his palms searing into him.

The room became a hub of activity.

Ringabel watched it blankly. Alternis had… Alternis had truly reached the depths of despair, and he and Edea had been no wiser. Where had they gone wrong? Where to even _start_ with detailing all that had gone wrong?

She didn’t need to see this. She would know, soon enough, what had happened, but she didn’t need to see the unnaturally limp way that Alternis lay as the White Mages prepared him to be moved to the white magic infirmary on the ground floor, nor the blood on the ground, nor the sheets, still dangling from the rafter, their edges singed. He would have to make sure she didn’t see this.

A thought occurred to him as he looked over the scene. Alternis had done this deliberately. Had he left notes behind as well?

Guards were thankfully preventing non-medical personnel from entering the room, and a stretcher was being brought in now, and so no one was paying attention to Ringabel as he stood on shaky legs, his sticky arms wrapped tightly around himself, and made his way to Alternis’s desk. He had seen no letters, envelopes, anything that looked like paper around the chair that lay sideways on the floor, nor on the bed. That meant the only other place for the letters to be was…

The desk held three envelopes, three names written out with an unstable hand. Ringabel picked them up gingerly, fingers leaving behind a rusty mark on the paper. They went into his pocket, where he could feel them burning a hole in his consciousness. The gravity of the situation hit him all at once, and he leaned over to press his hands to his forehead, ignoring the sharp smell of iron, in an attempt to not be sick.

“Sir,” someone said behind him. He turned to see one of the guards. Behind the man, Alternis was being carried out on a stretcher, strapped tightly onto the board. The blood puddle looked larger without his body in it. “We’re asking you to vacate this room so we can investigate.”

Investigate? Ringabel wanted to laugh. What was there to _investigate_? It was obvious what had happened. Still, he didn’t want to be here, and he was covered in blood besides. He couldn’t break the news to Edea like _this_. “I’m leaving,” he replied.

Edea would know in minutes if she hadn’t already been told. He needed to be at her side, but first, he needed to be clean. There were a great many things he would need to do now. He didn’t even know if Alternis was alive or dead; there had been so much blood, and it was possible they had been too late.

The scent was going to stick with him for days.

They had all made so many mistakes, and he could only pray that this one could be undone.


	6. please save us all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a brief interlude but no respite.

Everything was chaos.

The patrolling units were scattered into groups, talking amongst themselves, watching the procession go by. Ringabel followed behind the stretcher carrying his ‘brother’ until it got to the elevator, his eyes watching for any movement from the other man. Alternis was still, hopefully only under the influence of some spell to keep him safely asleep until transported. Hopefully.

At the elevator, he hung back and instead slipped into one of the lavatories, intent on washing the blood from his hands and arms before he returned to see Edea. He made it only so far as sudsing up his fingers before he threw up, retching into the basin as everything hit him all at once. The sight, the smell… the way that the blood stained his hands. He hadn’t been wearing jacket or gloves in Central Command, but now he regretted it, because it would be far harder to remove his skin and burn it as he could fabric.

Trembling uncontrollably, he leaned his full weight against the sink and wept, coughing on his bile until he had nothing left. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were corpses in front of him. Alternis, Edea, Tiz, Agnes… himself.

“Sir Dim?” Someone was checking on him. “Do you need – “

“I’m fine!” he barked through a throat that felt like sandpaper. His mouth tasted like acid. He took a deep breath to calm down; these people had the best of intentions, he knew. They’d just witnessed a terrible act and knew that he had witnessed the same. “Don’t tell Edea.”

Don’t tell Edea that he was sick or don’t tell her what Alternis had done? He wasn’t sure himself.

It was a futile request all the same. As the Grand Marshal, she was alerted when someone so much as sneezed in the wrong place.

“We’ve already sent a message…”

“I’m here,” Edea said from the doorway. Ringabel felt a fresh wave of tears cascade down his cheeks. He turned to the sink, blasting the water high so that he could finish rinsing his hands and arms off, ducking his face to hide it.

Awkward silence settled over the room.

“It’s… true, then?” Edea asked, her voice breaking. “They told me that Alternis had an accident and that you were already there.”

‘An accident.’ That was a nice way to word it. Ringabel straightened up, his back protesting the movement, and reached for a paper towel to wipe the water from his arms. Edea was staring at him. More accurately, she was staring at the blood on his clothes. Annette, in her arms, threatened to slip out.

“What happened?” she asked him.

Instead of answering her immediately, Ringabel reached over to pick up Annette, lifting her up by the armpits so that she wouldn’t be dirtied by the blood – her father’s blood.

“Could one of you take her for a moment?” he asked of the soldiers who were peeking in through the door. One hurried forward, his hands already outstretched, and he took the child easily into his arms. She squirmed, not liking the feeling of the cold, hard metal, but settled after a few squalls, dangling awkwardly.

Ringabel took Edea by the arm and made her sit on the floor.

She had yet to tear her eyes away from his stained clothing. For a moment, he thought of the letters in his pocket. Two of them had Edea and Ringabel’s names on them. Surely… they were words that Alternis wanted them to know after he was gone…

‘ _No_ ,’ he thought, kneeling beside Edea. ‘ _Alternis is alive. He_ is.’ Dark Knights were made to thrive in adversity. This wouldn’t fell one.

“He…” How did he even start to explain this? His head and chest both ached as he wrapped his arms around her, clutching her tightly. Unbidden, his mind flashed back to that moment when he’d broken through the door and saw his counterpart dying. Tears were hot in his eyes. “He was dying,” was all Ringabel could bring himself to say. “He…”

He couldn’t say anymore, couldn’t tell Edea exactly what had happened, what he had seen and what he had done, but he didn’t need to. She had caught on by now, and she was holding him tightly, pressing her face into his shoulder. Whatever words she was saying was muffled by both his clothing and her sobs.

Focusing on Edea made things more clear for him. He could shove away his own feelings and try to comfort the woman that he loved, stroking his hand down her back, rocking her for a few, long moments. Annette was not pleased to see her mother crying either, the little girl wailing and thrashing in the arms of the very harassed soldier who was still doing his best.

Edea pulled away, her face swollen and flushed with grief. Ringabel held an arm out to take the baby, tucking her against his chest and rocking her.

“That absolute idiot,” Edea bit, her bottom lip trembling. “Where is he now? Did he – Is he?”

“Downstairs,” Ringabel replied, kissing Annette’s head. She was calming down as well. “They took him to the White Magic chambers.”

“We have to see him,” Edea said. She scrambled to her feet.

Ringabel… wasn’t so sure. But a part of him was thrumming to see if Alternis was alive as well. The man had been so pale, so still. He’d done his best to heal him, but he was out of practice. What if it hadn’t been enough?

“Let’s go,” he said, following her out of the room.

There was still chaos on the floor, people milling about here and there. Ringabel told one of the guards where they were going as he and Edea entered the elevator and rode down, in painful silence, to the ground floor.

The White Magic room had been expanded in the years since the Glanz Empire and was now a giant infirmary built around Victoria’s old chamber. It was used often, for their research into White Magic techniques and healing spells, but also due to minor injuries that happened to soldiers during training or patrol, but Ringabel couldn’t remember seeing it ever so busy. It seemed as though half of their staff was crowded into one of the smaller private rooms.

“Grand Marshal!” A Mage called, stepping out of the room to speak to a colleague. She hurried over to them. “Are you here to – “

“How is Alternis?” Edea asked. Ringabel kept quiet, rocking the baby. This wasn’t a good place for her, and she was getting agitated. He sympathized.

“Does he have any family?” The Mage asked instead of replying. “We do have rules about the release of – “

“I’m the Grand Marshal!” Edea said indignantly.

“I’m his brother and his next-of-kin,” Ringabel cut in. He was the closest thing to Alternis’s next-of-kin, aside from the baby he held in his arms, who was far too little to be involved with the mess her father had started. He frowned at Edea for her outburst. She was upset, but weren’t they all? “You can check with others if you’d like, in case that note isn’t in his records. In any case, you can tell my - my fiancée and I about his care.”

She looked him over carefully, eyebrows furrowed, before seeming to accept his words. Ringabel was hopeful that by now, word of Alternis’s long-lost twin brother had spread even to the reclusive healers.

“He – “

Suddenly there were shouts from within the room. Ringabel could hear the sound of Alternis’s voice, terrified and pained, along with the surprised cries of White Mages. Someone commanded that they put the Dark Knight back to sleep, keep him under. His heart raced in his chest. What was going on?

“He’s alive,” the Mage finished weakly. “Give me a moment.” She left them, and Edea sank into a chair. Ringabel sat next to her, trying to think about anything but what was happening in the room beyond. Alternis was alive. That was good… wasn’t it?

Minutes passed in what felt like hours. It could have been hours, time flowing together, measured only in the sound of his breathing and his heartbeat pounding in his throat. Every passing heartbeat was a reminder of how Alternis’s blood had flowed over his fingers, the man dying in front of him. Yet, he was _alive_.

Eventually, the Mage returned.

“Well?” Edea asked. She had taken Annette from Ringabel by this point, both to comfort the girl and to comfort herself. Ringabel had been glad for it; having his hands free meant that he could dig his fingernails into the flesh of his palm. Not deeply enough to cut, but deep enough to keep him anchored to the present time. He stared up at the Mage, his eyes hot and swollen, forcing himself to concentrate on her.

“I think we need to transport him to the Central Healing Tower as soon as we can,” the Mage told them. A glance at the nametag on her chest told Ringabel that her name was Romea. 2nd Head of White Magic Research. He tore his eyes back up to her face. “He’s um, he’s going to need more care than we can provide here.”

“What kind of care?” Edea asked, brows furrowed.

“Considering how he was found, he’s going to need specialized treatment, perhaps even long-term hospitalization.”

Edea looked at Romea, and then to Ringabel. “How was he found? Ringabel?”

Ringabel stared at her. Had he not – no, he realized, his heart sinking. He had not told Edea exactly how Alternis had been found. She still thought this accident was just that, accidental. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then reached over for Edea’s hand.

“I…” It was very hard to speak. His lips trembled, and Romea reached over to touch his shoulder.

“I can tell her,” the White Mage said, gently. She turned to Edea. “We think it was a suicide attempt. “

Edea gaped.

Romea continued, her voice soft. No wonder she was a senior healer. “Someone – you? – “ Ringabel nodded. “Was able to cut him down before it was too late, so he’s alive. However, his neck was badly wounded, and he’s lost a lot of blood. We’re very worried about his long-term prognosis. We could keep him in the White Magic Chamber, but eventu - ”

Edea was still staring, her eyes wide. “He… would never do that! You’ve got to be wrong!”

“We really think it’s best to transport him, Grand Marshal,” Romea said instead of arguing. “We don’t want him to wake without the proper support.”

“Then transport him!” Edea shouted. Ringabel squeezed her hand. “What are you waiting for?”

“It’s the blood loss. He’s barely hanging on, even with Curagas. We can’t safely transport him until he’s got a blood transfusion. Do either of you happen to know his blood type? We need it soon or he’ll only get worse.”

Ringabel did. He’d had to know his own blood type since the day he’d taken on the Asterisk, though admittedly with the amnesia he now doubted his recollection in so crucial a situation. O positive, wasn’t it? Or negative. Dammit! There was an alternative to his faulty memory, wasn’t there?

“I think it’s in his records,” Edea was saying. “I – I don’t know.” The Mage turned away.

“Wait,” Ringabel interrupted. “I think I know what it is – but you can use mine instead. We’re twin brothers; we have the same blood type.” He held out his arm.

Both women stared at him.

“Are you sure, Sir Dim?” Romea asked.

“I’m quite sure.” It was the least that he could do, considering that it was his fault that Alternis had lost so much blood. It was also likely his fault that this whole thing had happened in the first place. For Alternis to have been pushed to the brink meant that something terrible had happened, and Ringabel should have never allowed it to get that far. The letters in his pocket burned. “Do it.”

“Ringabel,” Edea started. “You don’t have – “

“Darling, you should send a message to – to your parents,” Ringabel said. Of course he had to. And someone had to help Alternis, and he knew that the man had a weakness for his foster parents. Besides, they needed to know one of their children had nearly died. “Tell them it’s urgent that they come into town.”

“Ringabel…”

“Go!” He told her, more harshly than he would have liked. His chest, already hurting, ached even more when she flinched. “We need to get this done, and they need to be told as soon as possible. Besides, Annette shouldn’t be here.” Young children weren’t usually _allowed_ in the White Magic area to begin with, supervised or not.

Edea looked down at the baby on her lap and bit her lip. “I’ll try to come back before you transport him,” she decided and stood to leave for the communications center. Hopefully, Ringabel thought, she would decide to stay away. She didn’t need to see Alternis’s body, even if he was alive. Alternis wouldn’t want her to.

Ringabel followed the White Mage into the room where Alternis was hooked up to a bevy of machines, the beeping ringing through the air. His hands and feet had been strapped down to the sides of the bed with thick, leather straps. A mask covered his face, and they’d already had an IV going into him, with some unknown liquid running into his veins. His clothing, torn and stained as it was, had been removed and he seemed completely nude under the sheets that covered all but his extremities, the straps barely visible. One of the mages was casting a spell, easing the machine’s noise for a moment.

“We wouldn’t normally do this, but it’ll be quicker than digging up his records, especially given his position. They’re probably locked up and need special permission to access, since he’s a Council Member,” Romea muttered, adding in a remark about bureaucracy and unnecessary paperwork. She guided Ringabel into sitting down in a chair they set up next to the bed. “This is only because you’re his brother. I can see the resemblance now.”

“We’re twins,” Ringabel said, trying to offer her a smile. It felt weak, especially by his standards. His vision blurred. “Separated in childhood.”

They hooked him up to a machine that would then filter his blood to Alternis, as well as monitor exactly how much he was giving. They thought that Eternia might have more of Alternis’s medical records that would be more readily accessible, so that more blood could be given to him later, but for now, this would be enough to stabilize him for transport. Though there were carriages for this exact scenario, it would still be a long journey without access to their medical equipment in case the worst happened.

Ringabel quietly sat there in the chair, watching the blood flow out of him, through the machine, and then pump into Alternis’s arm. The other man slept, oblivious to the movement of the mages around him as they checked his vitals, monitored the progress of the blood transfusion, as well as made sure that the gas keeping him asleep was still going strong.

“Are the restraints really necessary?” Ringabel asked Romea when she returned. She’d been assigned the head nurse to see Alternis’s care through until his move.

“Yes,” she said flatly. “He was in a panic earlier, nearly pulled himself out of the bed. When we mentioned the Grand Marshal, his blood pressure went through the roof. He barely has any! That’s why we’re using the gas to keep him under.”

“That…” That didn’t seem normal. What in the world was going through Alternis’s head? Was anything there or was it as empty as everyone said Ringabel’s was?

“Besides,” she added, voice more gentle now. “Are the two of you close? Have you seen his wounds?”

“What… wounds?” As far as he knew, Alternis had only the one on the side of his neck. It stood out, a deep red that looked alien on the man’s otherwise pale skin. Perhaps it was better than the alternative, but Ringabel felt guilty all the same. Was she referring to some of his old scars from battle? Alternis had been staying at home instead of traveling the world for the past year. His old scars had long healed and shouldn't be a worry.

Instead of answering him, Romea uncovered Alternis’s form, peeling the white sheets away from him.

Normally, Ringabel was not in the business of looking at another man’s body, regardless of how close he was to them. They’d even removed Alternis’s underwear! However, he could see why, and his heart dropped as he took in the evidence of just how far Alternis had fallen. It seemed the other man had been hurting for far longer than he had thought, and Ringabel had not been the wiser, even with the nights that he stopped to see him. It was horrific to see. He felt sick.

Romea covered Alternis back up, tucking the sheets gently around his hips, mindful of the damage underneath.

“He needs to go to Eternia,” she said, as she had earlier. “We send all the soldiers with mental health concerns there. They’ve got a dedicated unit for it, and he could even be admitted for a stay.”

And, Ringabel realized, as Alternis’s self-declared next-of-kin, this decision fell on him, at least until Braev or Mahzer Lee arrived to take over as his guardians. “I agree. Let’s get him there,” he said, flexing his hand. The blood transfusion was almost finished. 

In another world, another lifetime, would Ringabel have found himself falling that deep? He imagined so. He’d been close to it before, had been lost in despair and grief. He’d wanted to die, though the world had ripped that choice from him. Was that the same darkness that had Alternis had felt? Had the wedding announcement set him off, or had it just been one of a multitude of things that had proved too much for the Dark Knight to bear? Everyone had their breaking points, even someone who was supposed to live through what didn’t kill him.

Ringabel needed to know, and he knew where to find the answers.

The machine was turned off, the transfusion ended, and he was shooed to the side of the room as the mages prepared Alternis to be transported to Eternia, covering him in blankets and moving his IV bags and breathing gas to a stand that attached to the bed, which had wheels. Once complete, he followed them until he couldn’t any further, all the way to the carriage that would take the man to the city for further treatment.

“If something goes wrong, you’ll be the first to know,” Romea said to him as they left. “Crystals willing, he’s strong enough to survive the trip.

Ringabel thought he would be. Alternis was a Dark Knight, after all. If he was alive now, he would stay alive. For a master, Dark Magic would see it so, even without the Asterisk. He stood at the window, watching the carriage disappear into the snow.

“The Grand Marshal has sent a message,” someone said after a while, pulling him back to reality. He turned to see one of the soldiers standing there. “She’s in your chambers, waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Ringabel said. “Can you tell her that I’ll be there soon?”

He desperately wanted to change out of the clothing that was dried stiff with Alternis’s blood. However, that would mean seeing Edea and Annette. Two people that he suspected had to do with the man’s breakdown. There was only way to be sure.

Edea had given him a tiny study, a room that had been unused for many years since the downsizing of the military. As he spent his days and evenings caring for a baby, she had thought that he might appreciate his own space to keep some of his more personal belongings, such as his journals and sketchbooks, away from tiny grasping hands. If there was any place he could have the privacy to read Alternis’s suicide notes, because that’s what they were, it was there.

Once in the room, he shucked off his clothing, not caring that he didn’t have a change of clothes in the room, nor that it was freezing from lack of fire in the fireplace. Shivering as he wrapped a thin throw blanket around his shoulders, he dug out Alternis’s letters from his pocket. By now, the paper had dried crinkly with blood, a rusty stain that he hoped hadn’t smeared the ink.

Fingers shaking not only from the cold, he tore open the envelope with his name.

The letter inside… was nothing short of disturbing. The pen had torn through the paper in places, ripped by the force of Alternis’s anger and anguish. Entire sentences were scratched out, though Ringabel could still make out many of the words underneath, as nonsensical as they were. He’d been _furious_ , beyond madness.

Though his stomach was empty of all contents, he felt it roll unpleasantly at the sheer vitriol behind the remaining words.

_I hate you more than words can say. You ruined everything. I hate you. Die. I want you to die. I want to die._

_You can’t die because you need to take care of them. Take care of them or else. I will never forgive you._

That was… it.

Ringabel resisted the urge to crumble the paper into a ball and throw it into the fireplace to be burned. Anger and grief flared up in him, long-lost forgotten feelings that he had thought himself distanced from. He closed his eyes and counted through a few moments of breathing as he shook, his nails digging into his leg, until he felt enough in control that he could fold the paper up and set it aside.

There was still Edea and Annette’s letters to read, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to stomach looking at them. No, he had to.

Ringabel opened those letters as well, skimming through them. His mind was barely able to comprehend the words in front of them, though they were a great deal less hate-filled than his own letter had been. Instead, they were full of other pain, pleading for forgiveness. For understanding. For them to let him go so that he could end his life so they could be happy.

Alternis had been convinced that his death was what would be best for everyone, it seemed. Even after reading the notes, Ringabel still didn’t know how he’d come to that sad conclusion.

He sat in that small room for a long time, staring down at the three pieces of paper in front of him until his shivering came to be too much. Sweeping everything into one of the drawers of the writing desk, and locking it with a key he then hid on a bookshelf, he tugged his dirty pants back on for the walk up to Edea’s room, though he threw his shirt into the fireplace to be used as kindling later.

“Where have you been?” Edea demanded of him when he entered her – their – room a few minutes later. She had been pacing. Papers were scattered by her table. Annette was seemingly asleep on the bed, tucked in with a few stuffed animals.

“Forgive me,” he replied by way of not replying. “I had to take off my clothes. You know how it is.” As if to explain further, he unbuttoned his pants to kick them to the floor once more.

The absurdity of the statement seemed to break the tension between them. Edea eyed him, the way that he had only a blanket covering his torso, and started laughing. “When do you ever miss an opportunity to strip?”

She laughed and laughed, and Ringabel crossed the room to hold her as her laughter turned to sobs. He managed to lower her to the floor, cushioning her from the stone by letting her sit on his lap, his arms tight around her. Tears of his own rolled down his cheeks into her hair. He’d thought himself wrung dry of all emotion, but seeing her cry had brought a fresh wave of pain rolling through him that he was unable to suppress.

Seeing what it had done to Alternis, a part of him didn’t _want_ to bottle up his emotions.

They cried for what felt like hours until Ringabel was thoroughly exhausted. His eyes ached. His head hurt. He slowly unwound his arms from around Edea, wincing as they cramped. She had been so still that he wondered if she had fallen asleep, but she only looked up at him with red eyes that looked just as swollen as his own felt.

He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep away this nightmare, but she was more important. It was her best friend that was possibly dying in Eternia, at his own hands. To him, Alternis _should_ have been nothing more than an awkward obstacle, a reminder of his past. And yet…

Edea sniffled, wiping at her face with the blanket he still wore. “Mother and Father are coming. They said they’ll head out first thing tomorrow – they want to pack for a long stay.”

He calculated in his head. It would take them at least three days to travel from the Yulyana woods, even with Braev’s old airship flying at top speeds. He squeezed her. “Good. He’ll want them there.” Hopefully, by the time they arrived, Alternis would be more stable. Perhaps even awake.

“That idiot!” Edea spat, pounding at Ringabel’s chest. He grunted. “I can’t believe he would go so far and do something so stupid… and over what? The wedding? Because I don’t - ”

“Edea,” Ringabel warned her. He grasped her wrist. She was in the angry stage of grief, and he couldn’t blame her. He… he didn’t know where he was, too close to the situation to step back to analyze it. A part of him was afraid to do so; if he had to take time to think about what was happening, he would once again lose himself in his memories of corpses. “That’s not helping.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but when she gazed up into his face something seemed to change her mind. Oh, he realized, when she touched his cheek. He’d started crying again.

“You need to get dressed,” Edea told him, her other hand squeezing his arm. She was already moving off of his legs, which felt tingly and numb. “You’re shivering. Maybe a hot shower?”

He was shivering, but he wasn’t entirely sure it was all from the cold – Edea always had a fire going in her fireplace. Still, she’d given him an out. He nodded and dragged himself to his feet. He was going to go take a _hot_ shower, try to rinse away the remains of the blood and the last vestiges of a sight that would haunt him for months to come, before getting dressed once more and playing his usual part of the loving, charismatic airhead. Edea needed him, Annette needed him.

 _Alternis_ needed him, and he hoped that it wouldn’t be too late.


	7. please wake up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continues to discuss suicide and healing.

He had thought that death would be less bright. Less noisy. Less painful. Just… _less._

Instead, there was an incessant beeping sound that set all of his nerves on fire. Around him, voices mumbled words he couldn’t quite make out. Here and there he thought he caught something that made sense, but his mind was too foggy to hold onto the thought for long. His limbs felt heavy down to the tips of his fingers. Something was holding him down. Bright light seared his eyes from under his eyelids. A mask over his mouth forced oxygen into weak lungs. His neck and shoulders screamed with jagged pain.

Alternis opened his eyes in confusion.

“You’re awake!” Someone said. He turned his gaze to them, but he was unable to focus on their face, their features blurred by the halo of light surrounding them. Their voice didn’t sound familiar. “Thank goodness.”

Was… it good? This was not the hellish reception he had expected to receive upon his death.

“Tell the Grand Marshal that he’s awake,” the person said, turning away from him.

The Grand Marshal? … Edea!

Panic bubbled through him. Edea, Edea no! Was Edea also dead? Had she followed him into Hell? He fought to free himself from the bonds around him, thrashing his arms until pain streaked up abused nerves. His breath came in frantic gasps, white fog building on the mask. “Edea!” he shouted through a throat that felt raw and full of needles. His head throbbed.

“Turn up the gas!” someone screamed. Hands forced him down onto the bed. “Knock him out!”

Darkness spread over his senses once more.

When he woke up again, realizing that it was _waking up_ and not _dying_ , the room was dark. The lights were dim, curtains drawn over the windows. Machines beeped steadily at his side. His arms were bound to the sides of the bed with thick straps, but his head was free to turn to the side. Mahzer Lee was sitting at his bedside, her hand holding his. When she saw the recognition in his eyes, she smiled, tears springing to her eyes.

“Good morning.”

The mask over his mouth made it difficult to speak, and his neck still throbbed. He mouthed her name and his vision blurred.

Braev Lee came into his line of sight, having been sitting down in an armchair closer to the wall. He laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder as he leaned over to examine Alternis. “So you’re finally awake. How are you feeling?” Alternis looked away. How was he feeling? He didn’t know how to answer that question… didn’t even know what the answer _was_. He was… alive. That was it.

“Do you know how long you’ve been asleep?” Mahzer asked him. He shook his head. No. “It’s been two weeks,” she told him, squeezing his hand when his eyes widened in alarm. “She sent us a message to return to see you, though they kept you under sleeping gas until we got here. We were all so worried for you, honey. The sincerity and the kindness in her voice sparked a feeling in his chest, one that he had not felt in a very long time. Regret. Tears spilled from his eyes.

Braev reached over to cradle his head. The gentleness in the motion made him ache. “Cry it out. You’ll feel better for it,” Braev said, and Alternis wanted to laugh because he was certain Braev Lee had never cried a day in his life. Instead he sobbed even harder, trembling with the effort. His tears flowed freely, his toxic hate flowing out with them.

When he finally felt drained, too exhausted to continue, he sunk back into the bed. Mahzer wiped his face, ears, and neck for him. “We’ve all been very worried,” Mahzer repeated. She was most careful around the left side of his neck. Even drugged, he could feel some sort of wound there, something that pulsed with pain at each touch. “Edea most of all. Do you feel well enough to see her? We’ll ask her not to come if you aren’t.”

Seeing… Edea? His heart palpitated, and his eyes widened, and she must have seen the terror in them because she nodded. “It’s up to you, dear. Your father will let the mages know.” Beside her, Braev nodded and stood up to leave the room. Alternis’s eyes followed him. Mahzer stayed with him, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. When he turned his hand over so that he could grasp hers, she smiled and her grip tightened comfortingly. “Once Dr. Amari sees you, we can probably remove the mask. She’s said you won’t need it now that you’re not being kept asleep, and I think it will help you speak. We want to talk to you. We should have done so long ago.”

He looked away. Why were they acting as though they’d done something wrong? _He_ was the one who caused this whole, terrible mess. He’d done something wrong again, hadn’t he?

He and Mahzer sat in comfortable silence for a while longer before Braev reentered the room, along with several White Mages. Mahzer moved out of the way, and the mages got to work around him, swapping out the bags of IV fluid that hung from bars around him. They readjusted the bars under the bed, propping it up more vertically. One of them turned off a machine next to him, and then reached for the mask on his face. Once it was removed, he took in a deep breath of sterile hospital air. He was in the Central Healing Tower, wasn’t he?

“Hello, Alternis,” the Mage who had removed his breathing mask said to him. In her hand, she held a glass of water with a straw, which she carefully held out to him. He took a sip, the blessedly cool water flowing easily down his parched throat. “I’m Dr. Amari. Do you know why you’re here?”

He paused. He remembered the rage and pain he’d felt before falling unconscious. He’d been in his rooms. He hadn’t been able to breathe… He’d thought he had died, but why? Everything was a blur, and his head protested thinking too much on it. “I don’t,” he replied, his voice hoarse and his brow furrowing. Why was his neck hurting so? Had he finally overdone it?

Dr. Amari took in a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Mahzer and Braev. “We’ll come to that soon. Let’s talk about your treatment.”

Treatment?

His treatment would be an extended stay in the Central Healing Tower, for at least a couple of more weeks, if not more. They would monitor him daily. _Counsel_ him daily. He’d get the help that he needed, Dr. Amari assured him. After he was cleared by both the doctor and his counselor, he was free to return home, though not to work. They wanted him to avoid stressors for now. 

“Which means,” Dr. Amari said to him, Braev, and Mahzer. “Perhaps it would be best if he stays in Eternia instead of Central Command for now.”

Alternis frowned. The Lees owned a home in Eternia, and while they hadn’t used it since their daughter had entered the military academy, he knew he still had a room with some of his childhood belongings there. Finding a place to stay wouldn’t be a problem. He had a different concern. “Who’s going to complete my work?”

“They’ll manage,” Braev replied. “I’ve already spoken with… We’ve already figured it out. Your only work, for now, is to get _well_.”

“Get better,” Dr. Amari corrected him. “We want you to get better, Alternis.”

She stayed and spoke him with and the Lees for a while longer before they unstrapped his arms, cautioning him against touching the bandages at his neck. He did so anyway the moment her back was turned, wincing. Mahzer shook her head at him, reaching over to push his hand away.

“The wound didn’t heal cleanly. Be careful, dear.”

“What … wound?” What had happened? He didn’t remember being cut on the neck any time recently.

Neither Braev nor Mahzer would answer him. Mahzer passed him the glass of water to drink instead. He grasped it tightly in his hands, staring down into the water as though it would help him regain his memories faster. Everything was a hot, uncomfortable blur, as though his mind was trying to protect him, though from what?

Dr. Amari returned with an older gentleman who shook hands all around, introducing him as Dr. Gannon. He grasped Alternis’s tightly between his own. “We’ll talk about anything and everything you want, lad.”

“I want to know why I am here, and why you don’t want me to return to my work,” Alternis replied, a bit irritated despite himself. They were treating him like some invalid! Like he was made of glass, ready to shatter at a wrong moment. He was a Dark Knight. He could handle a bit of rough handling. What didn’t kill him only made him stronger. Surely he didn’t need to be here.

The counselor nodded his head. “Of course. You’re owed an explanation. Amari, could you stay with us, please?” The word ‘just in case’ were left unsaid. Alternis waited impatiently as the other man made himself comfortable in a chair on his right side, with Braev and Mahzer staying on his left. One of Mahzer’s hands slipped into his, holding onto him gently. Being surrounded by so many people made him very nervous, and he found himself beginning to feel sick. Memories of past discomfort were trickling up, of times spent in the healing tower as a child, and of the time in the immediate aftermath of the Vestal’s journey. “What do you remember?” Dr. Gannon finally asked.

“I...” he hesitated in his response, licking at his lips and chancing a look at the Lees. Braev nodded his encouragement and Mahzer squeezed his hand, causing him to pull his own away. “I was quite upset.” He couldn’t remember _why_. The details were eluding him, but he doubted these people cared about the details for now. “I… I remember the anger and then, I was unable to breathe, and there was shouting…” The more he spoke, the more he remembered, his heart sinking down to his stomach. He had been inconsolable, convinced that the world would be better off without him. That _Edea_ would be better off without him. He’d gone to his rooms, intent on… “I wanted to die. I must have attempted to do so.”

“You were quite lucky that they found you before it was too late,” Dr. Gannon said. Alternis closed his eyes, cursing his own foolishness. The doctor thought that luck? After the mess he’d made his life, he hadn’t even been competent enough to end it? “Do you recall any of this?”

“No.” Now, he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to remember. Unable to help himself, he let out a derisive laugh. “I’m not supposed to be the one with the memory problems! _He_ is.” Who _he_ was went unsaid. Alternis didn’t want to say _that man’s_ name.

“He saved your life,” Braev told him.

Alternis went quiet. He clenched a fistful of the bedsheets with his hands.

Dr. Gannon glanced up at Braev, then back to Alternis. “What Sir Lee says is true. We’re told that one of the men who saved you used Dark Magic to do so. His aim was off, and it cut into your neck. You’ve noticed the wound, I believe?”

“…I have.”

“The cut was healed before you lost too much blood, but in a manner so quickly that lumps of scar tissue remain,” Dr. Amari explained. “We can operate later to remove as much of it as possible, though I’m sorry to say you’ll always have a scar of some sort there.” Alternis lifted a hand to touch the edge of the bandage.

“It’s fine.” It was not fine. He bit his lip. He’d tried not to be incredibly vain, but that didn’t mean he wanted to walk around with a scar visible to everyone! All it would do was serve as a symbol of his shame. “I don’t care.”

“I want you to promise me something,” Dr. Gannon told him. The older man reached out to grasp Alternis’s knee. He leveled the doctor with an even gaze. “When you and I speak, I want you to be as open with me as you feel comfortable with. I’m here to listen to you. I’m here to help you heal and get back to work. It’ll be just you and me in our sessions, and I won’t feel hurt if you want to yell at me, that is my promise to you. Just don’t hide. We can’t help you if you hide.”

Alternis considered his words, looking down at the bed. Perhaps he’d long needed this help; someone to talk to and someone who would help him understand the pain he felt. Perhaps… things _weren’t_ fine.

But they would be.

For the next few weeks, he stayed within the walls of the healing tower, resting. It was difficult to adjust to. He had not taken a meaningful vacation since he was in his teens, and the very idea of not having to work was completely new to him. At night, they gave him medicine to help him sleep dreamlessly, and he was allowed to wake up on his own terms, often rising in late morning when the nurses came in record his vitals for their charts. He was never left alone for longer than fifteen minutes at a time, on some sort of high-alert watch, and the medicine helped him sleep through the interruptions.

The first few days were the hardest. His chest still ached when he thought too hard on his suicide attempt, and he cried easily, sometimes for hours. Other times, he would become listless, staring off into the distance as his mind went idle, blank. He hated those times the most, those _missing_ minutes. Mahzer and Braev’s presence did not help. If anything, he only felt chagrined that he’d succumbed to what he felt was weakness, though the two older adults were nothing less than supportive. He felt a new appreciation for them; even in his most useless of states, they still loved him as their own.

Then, he received a gift, a box full of art supplies. There were several brand new sketchbooks and many colored pencils. Paints with canvas board and an easel that could be set up on a table over his lap. Though the card that came with it was unsigned, it wished him well. For a while, he ignored it.

Dr. Gannon met with him nearly every day, save for Sunday. Alternis _hated_ talking about his feelings, and refused to do so at first. He kept his mouth shut, glowering in the bed with his arms crossed. For the sake of his privacy, Mahzer and Braev were always absent for his sessions, which meant he felt no pressure to open up… until the doctor reminded him that it required _two_ signatures for Alternis be discharged, and _he_ would not sign off until he felt Alternis was ready.

“Fine,” Alternis had said. “I’ll talk. But I won’t like it.”

“You don’t have to.”

He had intended not to talk about his feelings, because they were personal and they were _embarrassing_ and he didn’t want to ever acknowledge them. Dr. Gannon instead started out their conversations talking about the books Alternis had thumbed through that day, or how Mazher and Braev were doing, or whatever else could fill the empty air. Slowly, Alternis began to reply to him, and the conversations somehow ended up moving into more relevant topics, such as how _he_ was feeling that day, and if he’d felt hungry or not. When the art supplies came, Gannon was the first to suggest that he use the art to draw out his feelings if he didn’t want to talk about them, promising Alternis that his sketchbooks would be private.

Not seeing a use for the art supplies otherwise, Alternis agreed. Slowly, the pages filled, and as he grew more comfortable with seeing his feelings drawn out, he also grew more comfortable talking about them. Large swathes of black and red covered multiple pages, the paper dented by the strength behind his strokes, and finally Alternis admitted that he was tired of being angry all the time, but that he didn’t know how to _not_ feel angry.

“Let’s try some exercises,” Dr. Gannon suggested, then gave him homework. Homework, as though he were a boy in school again, but given that he had nothing else to do, Alternis accepted the task of journaling his moods and listing out the things that he had enjoyed or not enjoyed doing during his day. This was made easier when they no longer restricted him to bed, giving him free rein to wander the halls of the healing tower. They also opened him up for visitors - with his permission – and a few of the council members and his top subordinates came by to see how he was doing. Letters from Barras and Holly, now settled in Florem, came in. While they didn’t know the details as to _why_ he had been hospitalized, the letter was half-scolding him and half-praising him for surviving whatever had landed him in the Healing Tower. Other notes came in from people he admired, and though it took him some time to build up the courage to read them, each one was supportive in their own way. Whatever had felled him was momentary, they said. He’d survived, and would only thrive.

Braev returned to Yuylana Woods, along with a contingent of volunteer soldiers, intent on packing up their personal belongings to move back to Eternia. Mahzer remained, though she settled back into their old house, seemingly preparing it for Alternis to stay in. She came to see him often, taking meals with him in his hospital room and staying late with him in the night on the days where he felt his weakest. Though he felt more comfortable opening up with Mahzer as compared to Braev, he still felt somewhat foolish, until one day she kissed his forehead and reminded him that she _had_ raised him and that the love she felt for him was not conditional on his successes.

Eventually, his sessions moved onto the topic he had been dreading.

“Have you given thought to Edea visiting?” Dr. Gannon asked him. Alternis was doodling in a sketchbook over his lap, drawing in idle circles. When her name was mentioned, his heart squeezed painfully and his breath caught. “Lady Mahzer tells me that she’s been asking about you.”

“No, I haven’t.” Alternis had been doing his best _not_ to think about Edea, though that was easier said than done. The mere sound of her name was too much for him, a painful distraction. Normally everyone tried to avoid using it around him. For now, he set his pencil down on the page. “She’s probably angry at me.”

“I wouldn’t know. She has no reason to be angry with you, though. What happened to you isn’t your fault.”

He bit his lip, trying not to cry. They kept _saying_ that, but he found it hard to believe. It was _he_ who had made the decision to hurt himself, hurt her and Ringabel, hurt _Annette…_ Annette. He had to take a moment to compose himself, during which Gannon passed over a tissue. “Did… they say anything about Annette?”

“The Grand Marshal’s daughter? No, I haven’t heard anything. Are you close to your niece?”

“… She’s my daughter,” Alternis corrected him, and it was the first time he had ever said that phrase aloud. Hearing those words now, from his own voice, was an indescribable feeling. No longer could he deny what he and Edea had been lying about for the past year or more. Gannon looked shocked.

“ _Your_ daughter?”

It was hard, _incredibly_ hard to face another person and admit that he had gone too far in indulging his and Edea’s fantasies. That they’d conceived a child and he had continued to feed into her delusions, for fear of losing the relationship with her that he had, and for fear of her losing her happiness she’d wanted so desperately. But he spilled it out regardless, and the ever-present heaviness in his chest eased somewhat as he confessed. In days long past, Crystalists would confess their sins to the Vestal that would absolve them according to the Crystal’s wishes, and now he knew why that had been a popular practice. Some things were too toxic to bury, only serving to poison everything around them. The circumstances behind Annette’s conception and birth were one of them. He could tell the other man was concerned, possibly disturbed at the revelations, but he was doing well to keep the judgment from his face.

“Who else knows that the girl is yours?” Gannon asked.

Alternis sighed. “Everyone but _her_ , I think. Her parents and Ringabel all agreed to keep the story going. We’ve _tried_ to get her to see reason but she insists that it was only _Ringabel_ she slept with. Lord Braev and Lady Mahzer were too worried about her health while she was pregnant to push it, and Ringabel’s a pushover when it comes to her.” He cursed under his breath. “I hate that man.”

“The two of you are twins, correct? It’s natural that you might feel upset if someone you loved preferred your twin brother over you. Do you think it’s his fault?”

“Yes!” Alternis cried. Even against the look on Gannon’s face, he refused to back down. “It isn’t _fair_. I was the one who was at her side all these years! He comes waltzing in, all dandied up, says a few flowery words, and steals away her heart. It just isn’t _fair.”_

Rather than argue whether or not it was fair, Gannon turned the conversation to how Alternis could handle the situation, how he could process those feelings of inadequacy in ways that _didn’t_ involve lying about his identity or harming Edea and himself. By the end of this session, Alternis was so drained that all he had the energy to do was crawl into bed and sleep, though when he woke up in the late evening hours, he felt better. He even drew a picture of her in his sketchbook. From there, he could only continue to open up. Having someone to _talk to_ about his feelings and his past, a person who didn’t judge him and a person whose opinion he wouldn’t obsess over seemed to make all the difference in the world. He stopped feeling sick. His appetite returned. He no longer lashed out on himself or others on a daily basis.

After a month he was discharged, though instructed not to return to Central Command just yet, and under guidance to continue to see Dr. Gannon three times a week. Alternis agreed easily. He wasn’t ready to return to see Edea, not yet. Although he felt somewhat cowardly, everyone assured him that it was perfectly alright for him to put up boundaries between the two of them where before none had existed. If those boundaries included not seeing her, then Edea would need to respect them. Having that freedom was… nice, but he already knew that he needed more practice on enforcing said boundaries. This extra time would help.

What was also nice was the day that Annette visited him, escorted by Ringabel.

Trying to fully explain how Ringabel and he co-existed, the concept of multiple worlds, and exactly _why_ Ringabel acted the way he did had been a headache. This was, after all, information that Alternis only knew because the world had been in danger of ending. He’d fretted over revealing the information until reassured by Braev (via telegram) that he _could_ , as well by Gannon who reminded him of doctor and patient confidentiality. Nothing he ever said in his sessions would be repeated to any other soul without Alternis’s express permission, even other doctors or Braev. Alternis wondered if the man truly believed him, or if he was under the impression that Alternis was just as delusional as Edea had been, but regardless he explained in detail the truth behind the crystals and the layers between worlds. With no proof except his word, Gannon had no _reason_ to believe him, but the doctor seemed to take his claims seriously, asking Alternis to elaborate once or twice on Ringabel’s role in everything until he understood.

It had been Gannon’s suggestion that Alternis arrange for some way to see his daughter, which meant that Ringabel or Edea would have to come with her as her caretaker. The very idea of seeing Edea had made Alternis teary-eyed, and so Ringabel it was. He was ready, Alternis thought, to see Ringabel again. After all, the man _had_ saved his life. Gannon had suggested that acknowledging that would help Alternis move on from some of the bitterness he felt. Privately, Alternis suspected that Ringabel had only saved his life so that Edea wouldn’t be sad, but those thoughts had been left unsaid.

“Hello,” Ringabel said cautiously as Alternis opened the door to the Lee’s manor to greet them. Annette was dressed warmly against the biting chill of Eternia’s autumn winds, and covered in a blanket that Ringabel held over his arms. “You look well.”

“… thank you,” Alternis replied, touching a hand to his neck self-consciously as he stood back to let Ringabel indoors. They had yet to perform the surgery to remove the extra scar tissue on his neck, though Dr. Amari had promised him that they would before he returned to work. It was more important that his mind began the healing process first, though all acknowledged that the physical damage would detract from his self-confidence at least somewhat, and would need to be addressed soon. For now, Alternis was keeping it covered under a large bandage and wore thick turtle-neck sweaters.

The pair was led to the front sitting room where Mahzer and Dr. Gannon, who had volunteered to be present for the meeting, were waiting. Both adults stood when Ringabel entered, Annette at his hip.

“Hello Ringabel,” Mahzer said. She was all smiles, the edges of her eyes crinkling with real joy as she saw her granddaughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. “I hope the trip wasn’t too cold.”

Ringabel was already handing Annette over to Mahzer so he could unzip her thick winter jacket. “It was fine. We took a carriage most of the way… I only walked from the gate to the neighborhood.” Once free from her coat, Annette was immediately snuggled, giggling into her grandmother’s embrace. Ringabel turned to the doctor now, extending a hand. “I’m Ringabel, Alternis’s brother. You must be…?”

“I’m Dr. Gannon, his therapist. Alternis speaks about you often.”

The knowing smile on Ringabel’s face was annoying, but Alternis could only roll his eyes. Of course, Ringabel was annoying, when was he not? Ignoring the other two men for now, he held out his hands toward Annette. She turned to face him, looked him up and down, and then… she smiled and reached out with her arms. Thank goodness, he thought as Mahzer carefully passed her over into his arms. She still recognized him even with the wound… which stung painfully as her little arms wrapped around his neck, giving him a hug. His bottom lip trembled, and he kissed her on the top of her head.

“You have a beautiful girl,” Dr. Gannon told him as they settled on the couches. “She looks like you.”

Alternis bounced his leg slightly, hands holding Annette in place so that she wouldn’t tumble. “Do you truly think so? I’ve always thought she resembled her mother. Still, I’m blessed to have her.” She was laughing, clapping her hands and wiggling so much that he almost feared he might drop her. Then again, he had spent months caring for her. He would never drop her. Holding her upside down until she screamed with joy, he didn’t realize that he was laughing as well until it was too late. Face flushed with embarrassment, he looked away.

“She’s missed you,” Ringabel offered. He was sitting back next to Mahzer. “It’s not the same without you there.”

Alternis doubted that, but he said nothing as he bounced Annette again. She looked between him and Ringabel, seemingly confused. She was still somewhat too young to understand the difference between twins – or whatever it was that he and Ringabel were – and so he couldn’t truly blame her for her confusion. He had confessed to Gannon that a part of him _had_ felt betrayed that she liked Ringabel just as much as she liked him, but Gannon had pointed out that as Annette’s biological father, he would always have a special bond with her… provided he was there. As she grew older, she’d know better. He’d asked Alternis to think of the special events they could have as father and daughter. Her wedding, for example. Didn’t he want to see it?

“Did… Edea say anything about me being gone?”Alternis asked after a moment, curious. His heart beat rapidly as he said her name, but otherwise, he felt… fine. No nausea. No dread. He couldn’t be afraid of her forever.

Ringabel seemed hesitant to respond, glancing over at the doctor, who nodded. Only then did he answer. “She’s a bit upset that you’ve asked not to see her. She thinks you… well, she thinks this is all over the wedding.”

“Wedding?” Mahzer asked. She seemed shocked, and that confused Alternis. Surely Edea would have told her parents her intentions?

Ringabel sighed, looking uncomfortable at the subject, his eyes watching Alternis as he spoke. Alternis wanted to hate him for the concern. Wanted to. “This isn’t how I wanted you to know, but yes. She asked me if I would marry her. I agreed, of course. I do love her, so much, and I’ve missed her these past few years. Even with… everything going on, I’d still like to tie the knot with her, someday.”

Everything going on, like his suicide attempt, Alternis thought, biting his lip. This was his fault. Edea was unhappy because of him…! Ringabel noticed the gesture. “It’s not all related to you,” he added quickly. “I wanted her to go through some counseling of her own before being wed…! Even before this. We were apart for a long time.”

Alternis looked down at Annette, who was busy chewing on her fist. She deserved to have her parents wed…

“Ringabel and Edea can get married when they’re both ready,” Dr. Gannon said to him, voice firm. “I think it’s a good idea for them to wait until things are less chaotic, and a very good idea for her to seek out counseling. I can recommend a few of my colleagues who can meet with her. What about you, Ringabel? Alternis has told me a bit of your past.”

In the message Mahzer had sent to the Central Command to schedule the meeting, she’d warned Ringabel that Dr. Gannon would be present, and that he knew about the mens’ backgrounds. 

Ringabel took a deep breath. “As much as I would normally love to hear myself talk, I warn you that my history is a bit boring. At least, right up until I met Edea and our friends! Would you like to hear about my adventures with them?”

“I would be happy to.”

That would have to wait until later. Ringabel had come to see him in secret, telling Edea that he’d wanted to go shopping with Annette as well as visit Mahzer for a few hours. As far as Edea knew, Alternis was still in the Central Healing Tower recovering, not in the Lee house. Mahzer made the trip to Central Command anytime she wanted to see Annette, and Edea hadn't been given any reason to go to Eternia. They hadn’t wanted to risk her coming along on the trip, because no one was sure if Alternis could take seeing her, not yet. To help with the cover story, Ringabel had planned on doing some shopping for a couple of hours. That would give Alternis (and Mahzer) some time with Annette without him around to distract her. She was very attached, he admitted, though only because he still looked after her during the day. Edea had taken on Alternis’s duties, which meant she was away from her rooms for longer periods of time than normal.

Alternis should have felt guilty at the revelation, but… he didn’t. A part of him regretted that Edea couldn’t spend as much time with her young daughter as perhaps _any_ parent should have, but the rest of him thought it was fitting that she take on his responsibilities when he had taken on hers during her maternity leave. Perhaps she would further her skills, even. He had confidence in her.

Dr. Gannon left the house to return to the Healing Tower, and Ringabel left to run errands, and Alternis was left with a bouncing baby girl who couldn’t yet walk but wanted to _go_ everywhere. Though the movement made his neck hurt, he crawled onto the floor with her to play with some of the noisy toys Ringabel had brought along. Mahzer stayed to supervise, resting on the couch and holding Annette up by her hands whenever the girl crawled close. Laughter filled the room, and filled his heart. Annette needed feeding, by way of a bottle of milk, she needed changing, and she needed a nap. For the first time in months, Alternis found himself falling into that role of caretaker, even with his mother’s supervision, a role that he had missed in its own way.

She was still napping when Ringabel returned. Alternis had been resting with her, content to simply watch her sleep, but got up to greet Ringabel all the same. The delicious smell of stew drifted throughout the house; Mahzer was cooking dinner so that Ringabel could take some home with him, and Alternis realized he was _famished._ When was the last time he’d been so hungry?

Among Ringabel’s purchases was a tin of pencils that he handed to Alternis. “You’re probably running out by now,” Ringabel said when Alternis opened the box to see what was inside.

Alternis stared. He _was_ running low on the graphite pencils that had come in the mysterious art supply box, but how did…

Ringabel just smiled. “Don’t ask. I won’t tell.”

It was difficult to schedule visits with his daughter without Edea catching on. Ringabel was only able to bring her to Eternia a few more times after that day. Each time Alternis laid eyes on her was an elixir to his heart. Annette was one of the best things that happened to his life. Somehow, despite him having been drowning in hatred and darkness, and despite her mother’s own issues, Annette had turned out sunny and bright, and it was as though she lit up the darkest recesses of his soul. She had once made his life bearable. Now, she made it better.

With her around, he could endure talking about Edea and how she was doing, a topic that he couldn’t avoid forever. From what Alternis could tell (what he could stomach discussing), she had first been horrified by his attempt on his life, and then very angry at his ‘selfishness’. That anger had mostly faded by now, after she had found out about the other, older wounds they’d discovered on his body when he’d been unconscious the first two weeks, but the very idea of being faced by Edea where she _might_ accuse him of baseless things still made him ache. Everyone assured him that he didn’t need to force himself into seeing her once more, but as the days passed and he continued to heal, a thought came to him. He was a Dark Knight. Part of his very life was throwing himself into the path of things that might harm him, so that he might grow. Pain made him stronger. So long as he could endure, he would survive all that life threw at him.

What was new was the realization that he didn’t have to endure his pain alone. He had family, both in his daughter’s presence as well as that of his ‘brother’ and adoptive parents, who would be there to ensure the darkness didn’t swallow him alive as it had threatened to before. He wasn’t alone. If the pain grew too much, all he had to do was to reach out to have it soothed. He understood that now.

“I want to return to Central Command,” Alternis said to Dr. Gannon one day. “I feel as though I’m ready.”

It had been three months since that fateful day, and the end of the year was upon them. It would be _busy_ and according to Ringabel, Edea was struggling. Many of her duties were being delegated to other Councilmembers, who all had their own responsibilities and projects, and even Ringabel was stepping in to help, given his experience.

Edea, no, _Eternia,_ needed him. He needed to take up his Asterisk once more and return to who he used to be. The stone had lain dormant in Braev’s custody for months. Even after the Templar had returned to Eternia with the entirety of his and his wife’s belongings to settle once more in the city, he had yet to return it.

“You have seemed much improved lately,” Gannon admitted. “I was waiting for you to say something. If you think you’re ready, so do I.”

Part of Alternis’s improvement had been the surgery done on his neck to remove the painful mound of scar tissue that had been leftover from the frantic, amateurish healing to his jugular. Amari had stayed true to her word, removing it quickly and mostly painlessly. All that was left was a jagged mark that ran the length from his collarbone to his lower jaw and ear. Ringabel’s aim had apparently been _very_ off, the man acting entirely without thought upon seeing Alternis’s body. The scar would fade in color with time and with the application of healing gel, but he’d always have it.

Ringabel commented that it made him look rugged. Mahzer had said he looked perfectly fine and just as handsome as ever. And Alternis had realized that this scar was the only physical difference between himself and the other man, aside from the slight differences in their preferred hairstyles. He was, with this mark, his very own person.

“You _are_ your own person,” Gannon had assured him when he’d mentioned it to him. “Your feelings, thoughts, and recent past are your own. No one lives your life better than you.”

With Dr. Amari and Dr. Gannon’s blessings, Alternis took his Asterisk back in hand from Braev. The comforting cool metal surrounded him. It was like being born anew, that feeling wrapping around his limbs. He was safe and secure in his armor. Nothing could hurt him.

Especially not since Braev would accompany him back to Central Command.

He imagined that Edea wasn’t aware of _all_ the reasons as to why he’d made an attempt on his own life, though she knew by now that Alternis had been upset over other things, not just jealous at the idea of losing her to another man. Ringabel had told Alternis that in the chaos of transporting Alternis to the white magic chambers in Central Command, he had located the notes left behind and taken them to keep them away from prying eyes. Alternis could take them back if he desired; he hadn’t given Edea’s to her. On one hand, he was relieved that Edea hadn’t been able to read his desperate last words. On the other, he wasn’t ready to look at them, but not ready to discard them either.

However, this meant he was worried about her reaction. Having someone there during that first meeting would be helpful. Not being alone with her for a while would help even more. Luckily, Councilwoman Ilina and Councilman Ulric had both moved into the office that Edea and Alternis had once shared during the time he’d been recovering, ostensibly to be closer to her when she needed help. Their presence would be welcome.

He’d get through this.


	8. please live on

Alternis had been asked if he wanted to have a special weekend Council session to welcome him back. He had declined, too embarrassed. While the council members all knew that he’d been in the hospital, with several having stopped by to see him, none seemed to know the details why. If they did, no one was saying anything. He wanted to keep it that way.

No, he said. He’d see them during their usual meetings.

But that didn’t mean he could wait all that time to see _Edea._

It was a frigid Saturday morning when he and Braev Lee found themselves at the foot of Central Command. Alternis drew his cloak tighter about him, trying not to shiver in the cold. He’d forgone wearing his armor for this first meeting, which was just as well; the metal would have been terrible in the snow. Eternia always grew much colder during the winter months, and the days were shorter, leaving less sunlight on their skin. Dr. Gannon had warned him that the seasons change may not help with his depression, and to ask for more sessions if he needed it. For now, he would be seeing his therapist twice monthly.

“Recovery is not an entirely upwards slope,” Gannon had said. “Any forward movement is progress, even if you need to take a step back sometimes as well. You’ve made improvement, but everyone always needs someone to talk to.”

He had a suitcase filled with changes of clothes that had been brought to him, and within it was also stuffed the multitude of art supplies he’d been using over the past weeks. He had filled up two entire sketchbooks and was working on another. He’d started to dabble with paint, and blank canvas boards were in another bag. He was under doctor’s orders to take it slow for the first few days, and so would probably have time to draw. He could, if necessary, explore any painful feelings on canvas, in a way that didn’t physically harm him.

Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

He and Braev dropped off his belongings in his suite. Walking in, he realized someone had been in the bedroom to clean it up. The large rug that had lain in the middle of his room for the past decade had been changed for a newer, brighter one. Alternis imagined he’d bled too heavily for them to keep the old one. His sheets had been changed. His desk chair was different. The rafters, once exposed, were now covered with sheets of wood.

He ran a bare hand over the frame of his bed. It still had cross beams over the top.

“Edea is waiting in the council chamber,” Braev said to him after speaking with one of the soldiers standing guard outside his room. “She’s by herself, since everyone else is home today. I’ll go with you.”

It was now or never. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

It certainly wasn’t for Edea to start crying upon seeing him. He braced himself for her anger, her disappointment, or her grief, but she was _smiling_ through her tears, holding her face with her hands.

“You look so much better!” she cried. Unlike when she had been waiting for Ringabel the day of his return, she had been leaning against the wooden table, close to the door. He’d not been expecting that. He felt affronted at her words despite himself. Did that imply he hadn’t looked good before? Why hadn’t she said anything?

She leaned forward to examine his face, and he averted his gaze. His stomach churned. Seeing her so close was giving him unpleasant flashbacks to the time he’d spent with her, both in public and in private. If she were to get upset with him…

“How are you feeling?” she asked him. Reaching out a hand, she paused and seemed to reconsider her actions, tucking her hands into her arms. He relaxed just a hair.

“I’m… feeling fine, Edea,” he replied. That wasn’t entirely true. Anxiety gnawed at his gut, but at least he didn’t feel like throwing up, and his heart rate felt normal. Gannon had walked him through many calming exercises and recommended some herbal medication he could take when he needed it. It helped. “I’ve gotten better.”

Relief was clear on her face. “I’m glad. I was so worried when I heard about your accident.”

The smile he had forced on his face faltered. Accident? He imagined that Edea had quickly found out about his attempt, given that Central Command was full of gossips and loose tongues, and had been angry at him for it. Now she wanted to claim it was an accident? Perhaps it was just her wording, her way of avoiding the heavy topic, but it felt like an insult… her way of also avoiding _why_ he’d done it.

She seemed to notice her misstep. “Not that it was an _accident,_ like a fall or anything. Alternis,” she corrected, brows furrowing. “Why did you do it?”

“Edea,” Braev began to interject.

Alternis shook his head, giving Braev a glance. He’d expected to be questioned over his actions. Many people, not just Edea and the councilors, were curious. It would be a subject of gossip for a while, probably. Even the citizens had their speculation; when he had taken walks in Eternia to get fresh air, some had stopped him to ask if he was doing alright. “It’s all right, my lord.” To Edea, he explained further, “I was in a bad place, and felt I had no other choice. I’m sorry.” Gannon had told him he didn’t have to get her all the details why, nor a specific trigger. They’d practiced the explanation.

She seemed shocked. “You don’t have to apologize to _me_. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice. Ringabel told me that he found you, and… I thought… well, never mind what I thought. I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

His heart, which he had tried to harden for this meeting, was melting. At her core, Edea was kind and just, even if she could be stubborn. She would never purposefully harm him, he scolded himself. He’d been foolish to think otherwise. That idiocy of his had almost cost him his life!

A voice that sounded very much like his therapist sounded in his head, reminding him that his feelings were still valid. Even if she hadn’t _meant_ to hurt him, she had, and that was more important than her intentions. Part of him swept the voice aside, old habits taking over. Another part of him held onto it tight.

“I… am glad that I am here as well,” he murmured. His bottom lip trembled. She’d missed him!

“Can I give you a hug? Or is that not okay?”

“It’s quite alright,” he replied, and the words were scarcely out of his mouth before her arms were squeezing him. He grunted, as her grip was fierce as ever, but his own arms circled around her shoulders. In the months since his attempt, he had been held many times, usually by Mahzer but sometimes by Braev or a nurse who had walked in on him having a breakdown. He was getting used to the physical contact of other people. It never ceased to make his nerves all sing, but he tried not to be overly clingy as they clutched one another.

Edea eventually let go. “I should let you go and get settled back in,” she said, and looked between him and her father, who was still watching silently. “Dinner tonight?”

Alternis nodded. His appetite was still on and off, but he was generally good at eating once more. “Dinner would be nice.”

Braev agreed. With that, they split off into their own directions. Braev would stay in a guest suite, and Alternis headed back to his room to fully unpack and settle back in. Before reaching for his suitcase though, he fell onto his back on the mattress, staring up at the new, boarded-up ceiling.

So many things had changed since the last time he’d been alone in this room. It made his head spin to think about. The hatred in his heart had lessened. The swirl of anger and hopelessness no longer consumed him as it once had. He might even, dare it say, be feeling _happy._ Edea had missed him, and she had been so respectful of his space, and she’d _apologized_. While her apology might not have been over what she’d done to him, it was for at least not noticing the effect her careless actions had had and that… was a start.

He could accept it.

A burst of inspiration hit him and he rolled out of bed so that he could dig out a sketchbook and pencil. The best way for him to process his feelings would be to visualize it, and…

By evening, he was more than a little annoyed. While he had intended to rest the remainder of the day, sketching or journaling as had been his habit the past few months, he had been interrupted multiple times. It was as though people were afraid of him being by himself, and though he knew that they had a very valid reason for that fear, he _had_ been perfectly alright by himself in the Lee house. There had been nights, right after his discharge from the Healing Tower, where he himself had been too afraid to be alone and thus had slept in Mahzer and Braev’s bed – in his 30s and needing to sleep with his parents! - but that fear had quickly faded. He would always prefer his solitude, even now.

Which was why when Edea popped her head into his room, he shouted at her without realizing exactly who he was talking to at first.

“Get out of here a – Edea!” His face felt hot and tight when he looked up to see that it was _her_ standing in the doorway and not one of the guards as he had thought. Fear bubbled in his chest. “I’m sorry!”

She looked a little surprised, but not offended. “Did you think it was someone else?” she asked him. Without waiting for a response, because his shock did speak for itself, she added. “Father asked if we could eat dinner in his suite, not mine. Ringabel said he didn’t mind, so I wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you,” he breathed. “That… thank you.” It sounded like a good idea to him. He wasn’t sure he was ready to enter her – hers and _Ringabel’s_ – rooms. “Is it time for dinner already?”

“I was heading there. We can go together.”

He closed his sketchbook and set it aside on his bed. As an afterthought, he set his pillow on top of it, to prevent any nosy guards from spying it and deciding to snoop. They should know better, but one could never be too cautious. His sketching was private.

She was waiting for him in the hallway when he emerged. Together, the two of them made their way to the elevator. He was alone with her, he realized, no one to save the conversation if it went south. He’d have to be careful with his words.

“Ringabel’s just changing Annette into a clean romper before he brings her down,” Edea explained. “She keeps dirtying up her clothes almost as fast as we can change them.”

Alternis smiled to himself. Ringabel had complained about the piles of laundry more than once during his visits. “She gets that from her mother.”

Edea didn’t argue. “I think she’s missed you,” she said instead. “I mean, I know that Ringabel spends all day with her, but before him, it was you who used to help me with her. You’re her favorite uncle.”

He was her _only_ uncle.

The world still knew Ringabel as his twin brother. It was something they had _all_ agreed upon, and Alternis didn’t know a way around it without alarming the citizens. He’d been reluctant enough to tell Dr. Gannon, but telling an average person was even worse, especially if it spread. The very idea of alternate worlds, some of which had been utterly destroyed, and people from those worlds living in this one, could cause panic in the streets. The last thing they wanted was paranoia and witch hunts to run rampant in Eternia or in any of their ally countries. No, this would have to be a lie that they all took to the grave with them.

Still, he wondered. Was she referring to the days when he’d helped take care of her as Edea worked? Or was she remembering the time before Ringabel’s return, when Alternis had posed as him at night to care for his daughter? He couldn’t be sure.

“I’ll see her tonight,” he replied. “Perhaps I could even watch her for a while tomorrow, if you or Ringabel would like a break.”

“Is that wise?”

He stopped, confused. “Why… would it not be, my lord?” Surely she wasn’t implying that he would harm himself or others still, and _especially_ not his own child!

Edea shook her head, but she was flushed. “Nothing, nothing! I just wanted you to take some time to relax. She makes it hard to. She’s starting to really move around! You have to keep an eye on her or she’ll get into the worst things. I just don’t want you to be stressed.”

Alternis already knew all of this. He’d spent an entire week meticulously baby-proofing the Lee house for Annette’s visits. “It’s quite alright. I’ll enjoy the challenge.”

“You won’t stress out?”

“Do I look like I will?” he asked her. They stepped into the elevator. “I’m… getting help. Talking to someone. I’m prepared for anything.”

There was a smile on her face. “Good! Ringabel said he’s talking to someone too. It’s about time for him, honestly. If we’d had the chance I would have thrown him at a doctor during our journey.”

Again, things that Alternis already knew. Ringabel had a harder time seeing someone, given his responsibilities as Annette’s caretaker, but he was apparently speaking with one of the few military White Mages who specialized in battle fatigue. “What about you?” he asked her. When she stared blankly at him, he added, flustered, “S-speaking with someone has helped not just with my ah, my situation but also with my thoughts. You should consider it.”

“I don’t need to,” she replied, but she looked away. The door opened as they came to the floor where the guest suites were. “I’m the Grand Marshal… I shouldn’t need to speak with anyone. There’s no reason to. There’s nothing wrong.”

She was as heavily in denial as ever, he realized. She thought this was weakness, not a sign of strength, of knowing when to seek help. He opened his mouth to argue, but she was already walking away to the room that Braev was staying in, knocking on the door, and entering when the older man called his permission.

“Hello you two,” Braev said, greeting them both from the table he was seated at. In the five years since his final battle with Edea and her companions, his bad knee had only gotten worse. The man was stalwart against the use of a cane, but he moved slower than ever and sat frequently. That had been part of the reason he’d taken up knitting as a hobby, Alternis supposed. It was a way to keep his mind and fingers active without hurting his leg further, and Braev had commented often that he didn’t have a mind suited for the finer arts. “Where are the others?”

“Ringabel will be here as soon as Annette is changed!” Edea said cheerfully. Food was spread out on the table, courtesy of the cooks that provided for the whole tower. “She’s just going to get dirty again, but at least she’ll be cute and clean for a few minutes.”

Braev was smiling. “She gets that from her mother.”

“Father!”

Ringabel arrived soon enough, Annette at his hip, and not a moment too late, Edea proclaimed. She was _starving._

“I know, I know,” Ringabel said. He had a folding high chair in one arm, which Edea took from him to set up. “She didn’t like the pink dress so I had to put her in yellow… here, Alternis. Can you hold her for a moment?”

She looked adorable in the little yellow dress, and with her fine hair sticking straight out, Alternis thought she might resemble a duckling. “I’ll take her,” he replied, eager to hold her once more. In all the preparations for his return, he hadn’t seen her in over two weeks. She came into his arms easily, clutching his shirt with her hand as she stood on his thigh.

Braev leaned over to play with her, tickling her side as she squealed and wiggled, feet stamping painfully onto Alternis’s leg. “She grows more every time I see her. You should bring her to see us more often. Your mother would like that.”

“We should,” Edea agreed. Apparently the high chair was a two-person job, so she was holding it in place as Ringabel latched the bars. Alternis wasn’t sure how they did it without someone holding the baby. “With the weather turning, we’re trying to think of ways to go to the city without exposing her to too much of the cold…”

“Rochelle is proposing a better highway, or even doing experiments with rail,” Ringabel added. “Still, construction wouldn’t start until spring.”

Alternis should have known this… had he been working over the past few months. No! He stamped that thought down. Everyone had said it was more important that he rest and recover, and he wasn’t going to let his thoughts tell him otherwise.

“Let’s eat,” Edea said as Ringabel tucked the fabric cover over the wood of the high chair’s seat. Annette was swept from his arms and firmly strapped down onto the seat where she fussed and kicked until a plate of rice was placed in front of her. There, she grabbed a fistful of food and brought it to her mouth. Alternis watched, amused. She really was her mother’s daughter.

Dinner was heavier fare than he’d eaten in a while. Mahzer had cooked all his meals, but with his appetite as touchy as it had been, she had stuck to light dishes with lean meats and little spice. This was anything but, with grease covering most of the browned meat and a thick layer of red spice on the vegetables. His mouth watered and his eyes stung with the fumes, but he ate his fill and more until he felt almost sickeningly full, but still satisfied. His heart was swelling with warmth.

The others looked just as full except Edea, who was still nibbling at some of the meat as she supervised Annette. The girl was eating much more slowly than the rest – or perhaps, it was just because she was wearing more than she was swallowing.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Ringabel complained. “Honey, was it truly necessary that they cook this much?” His usage of the endearment didn’t even sting, Alternis realized.

“They’re all of Alternis’s favorites,” Edea replied, wiping absently at Annette’s sticky face. “Of course it was.”

They _were_ his favorites. He’d gone so long without eating them that he’d forgotten, even if she hadn’t. Alternis stared at the remains of the roasted ribs and felt his eyes sting for a reason aside from the spicy fumes. “It was delicious,” he said. “Thank you.”

They stayed in Braev’s suite for a while longer, partially to digest their meal and partially to spend time with him. Braev held his granddaughter in his arms, letting her play with a toy that he’d brought from Eternia as a gift. Edea sat next to him, chatting about how her parents were doing.

Alternis relaxed back on the loveseat in the suite’s sitting room, limbs feeling heavy with contentment. His eyelids drooped. Between the warm, gentle atmosphere of the room and the fullness of his stomach, he was getting very relaxed, almost tired. The lack of stress helped.

Then Ringabel sat next to him, and Alternis felt instinctual annoyance flair up. 

“What do you want?” he asked him, eyes finally slipping shut.

“How was your welcome home?”

“It was…” Everyone had been careful around him, from the guards to Edea herself. He hated being treated so delicately – he was the Dark Knight, for heaven’s sake! – but the consideration itself, that they might care for his feelings, had been touching. In the months he had been recovering, much of the hatred and spite that had once fueled him had been repurposed into resolve. Being angry had once been motivating. Now, it was tiring. He thought he might go to bed early. “It was alright, I suppose. Far better than I expected. Why do you ask?”

“I want to come see you tonight,” Ringabel said. Alternis cracked one eye open to look at him. 

“You already have a fiancée.”

It was extremely satisfying to see the way that Ringabel’s face flushed. “I do, and she is the only one for me. You know what I mean. Wait, was a joke?”

Alternis pressed his lips together so that the small smile on his face wasn’t as visible. Somehow, talking about this didn’t hurt as much as it might’ve previously, though there was still a small ache in his heart. He’d had time, had been forced to accept it. Edea and Ringabel were allowed to live their own lives, just as much as he was, Dr. Gannon had said. They didn't love each other just to spite him. “Not tonight,” he said, testing his boundaries with his other self. This was new as well. “I think I may go to sleep early.”

Ringabel nodded his understanding. “Very well. Tomorrow afternoon, then? Edea said she may go to Eternia with Braev when he returns so that Annette can see Lady Mahzer, and I should be able to stay in Central Command.”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

That night, after they had all said their goodnights late in the evening and headed to their respective rooms, Alternis took one of the medications that helped him sleep through the night and curled up in his bed. The wind howled outside the window, loud and menacing this high up and a quiet, intrusive thought crept through his brain. ‘ _Stop that_ ,’ he told himself, frowning and pulling his warm duvet tighter about him. ‘ _There’s no reason for that anymore_.’

When he woke up, the wind was still loud, but the daylight was shining bright through the windows. It was mid-morning, and he lay in bed for a while longer, just because he could, before dragging himself out to clean up. Going through the motions of a normal life was still odd to him, even though he’d been doing it for months. Showering, shaving, measuring his waist to see how much muscle he was regaining, all of it was now normal when before he’d neglected himself.

He would return to work the next day, once more picking up meetings and meeting with his messengers and spies, but today was still his, and he enjoyed himself with more art until he heard a knock on the door just past noon. Oh. Right.

“Come in,” he called, but remembered that his room was still sound-proofed and that he could only be heard if he was closer to the door. Fine. Rising to his feet, he headed over to the door, where Ringabel was knocking again, more quickly this time. “I heard you the first time,” he replied testily, but without any true bite. He knew why Ringabel had been worried when he didn’t reply. They both did.

The other man leveled him with an awkward smile. “Did you just wake up?”

“I’ve been awake for hours,” Alternis replied, though he knew he didn’t look it. His hair was a mess, and the clothes he’d decided to wear were loose and comfortable. “You’re late.”

Ringabel just made a face. “I _said_ in the afternoon, did I not? I wasn’t aware this was a _date_. You know I’m not into men.”

For a moment, Alternis contemplated kicking him out.

Instead, he stepped back so that Ringabel could stop hovering in the doorway where someone might overhear their conversation. Already, some of the guards that patrolled the halls were pausing in their steps. “Get back to work!” he called to them.

Ringabel laughed.

The office that was attached to his bedroom had a small loveseat in there, and so Alternis led Ringabel there. Something about the larger room seemed to make Ringabel nervous, and Alternis didn’t really want to be sitting on his bed to have a talk. He had yet to use the desk chair, even if it wasn’t the exact same one he had stood on all those weeks ago. It was still… too similar.

“You look well,” Ringabel said as they settled. The office was quite small, but it was where Alternis kept his multitude of more sensitive, intelligence-related notes as well as several bookshelves of tomes related to his various studies and hobbies. The desk here was larger, with more drawers for filing away messages and locked, to keep his secrets hidden. He took a seat in this chair, one that Edea had purchased for him for his birthday a few years ago. It was large and very plush, and he had napped in it more than once during late nights. Ringabel stretched out on the loveseat, feet extending over the end.

“Edea’s gone?” Alternis asked him rather than reply. Of course he looked well. He’d had nothing to do but rest.

“She, Annette, and Braev headed out this morning,” Ringabel replied, and he reached into his pocket for an envelope, tossing it over. “Braev thought you were still asleep, so he left you a note rather than disturb you. He wants you to come see them next weekend, if you can.”

 _If_ he could? With all that Braev and Mahzer had done for him over the past few months, Alternis would do anything they asked for him… within reason, his inner therapist voice added. Visiting his parents was perfectly normal. “I’ll do that,” he decided, slipping the envelope to the other side of the desk. He would read it later, when he didn’t have an audience. “What about you?”

“I wanted to stay and speak with you. Alone.”

Alternis opened his hands, as though to say ‘well?’ “I’m waiting.”

Ringabel smiled, though there was a tightness behind it. “Before we start, I want to say that I’m not angry with you. You’ve had enough of anger, I imagine.”

“Yes, but…” Anger wasn’t what he was feeling right now. It was anxiety and a bit of dread. What could Ringabel want to say that couldn’t be said in front of others? Ringabel had been one of the most compassionate to him in the tower, it was true, but he already knew that they were going to be discussing sensitive topics that Alternis still struggled to open up about. Dr. Gannon was one thing… a version of himself from another worlds was something else entirely. He wrapped his arms around himself, hunching over. “I did something terrible.”

“You hurt yourself, and you hurt others in the process, but - ”

“I know!” Alternis shouted, feeling shame bubble in his racing heart. “I was a fool, and I could have ended my life over… what? I still don’t even know.” All these months and his mind was continuing to block out the details of how he’d felt in those last moments before his attempt. He knew what he had talked to Edea and Ringabel about their wedding, but his feelings and the moments where he’d been alone in his room were lost to him, perhaps forever. He now, to his utmost horror, knew how Ringabel had gotten amnesia all those years ago.

“You weren’t a fool,” Ringabel said, leaning back against the cushions of the loveseat. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. “You were in pain, and we didn’t notice just how much until it was nearly too late. I should have followed you sooner.”

“Spare me the pity.” He didn’t want _pity_. He could accept compassion or comfort or rationalization, but he didn’t want pity. It would only serve to make him feel worse about all the people he had hurt with his actions. He’d nearly _died_ , nearly left his daughter and the woman that he loved more than anything. There was no excuse, despite all that Dr. Gannon and the others had tried to assure him. His hands clenched in the long sleeves of his top. The damage that had been leftover from the harm he’d done himself earlier in the year had not been erased. It served to remind him of his mistakes, and he’d made a promise to himself not to add to it.

“Fine. What do you want instead?”

“What do I want?” A list of all the things he _wanted_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he held back. What he wanted was different than what he deserved, or even what he _could_ get. Edea’s heart was not his to demand for the taking. “I don’t know. Just not your pity.”

Ringabel sighed. “Then how about my ear, Alternis? You and I are alike. Of course we’re alike, we’re the same person. I know your inner demons better than anyone, ones that not even a Dark Knight can charm.”

“I have someone to talk to,” Alternis pointed out, contrite. Still, the offer made his heart beat wildly. Mahzer and Braev had also offered to talk to him when he needed an ear. Barras had done the same, via their letters. Councilman Ulric, a White Mage who now headed much of their medical research, had mentioned that they were starting a project on battle fatigue and opening up additional counseling services in Central Command for all who might need them, no matter their rank. However, none of them were people he could open up to fully. He craved approval from the Lees, even now, and was reticent to say something that would concern them. Barras was too far away, living in Florem and being _happy_ with Holly and his teaching. And he would be damned if he spoke to any other person about the existence of other worlds. Ringabel, perhaps more than anyone else in the world, knew his struggles. “I’m not an invalid.”

“I never said you were,” Ringabel replied, gently. “I admit I’m being selfish here. I thought perhaps you and I could talk to one another. My therapist is nice enough, but we both know there are things we can’t share with others. Neither with Edea, nor Annette.”

“… you talk to the baby about your problems?”

“Annette is a _very_ good listener!” Ringabel defended himself, crossing his legs as he huffed. “I have to be careful with my language, of course, but she never talks back to me when I complain about things.”

“She is a baby.”

“She is. And she needs her father. I’m happy to care for her, and happy to call her my daughter, but she’s _yours_ and she needs you.”

Alternis said nothing. His hand clenched tightly into a fist at the reminder of his foolishness. Ringabel didn’t need to tell him things he already knew and hated himself for.

“When I came into the room and saw you hanging there… for a moment, I thought I saw myself,” Ringabel admitted. His eyes closed. “I thought you were dead, and that Edea would never know the truth, or that Annette would never know the truth.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say.

“Apologies aren’t necessary. What I need from you is an assurance that you won’t do that again. Not without talking to someone.”

Alternis went silent. Ringabel was not the only person who had asked the same of him. Mahzer had done so during one of his first nights in the Central Healing Tower, her eyes bright and teary. At the time, he’d been too numb to respond to her, and she had never brought it up again. Braev had done the same, reminding Alternis that he had people who loved him. Alternis had never replied to him either.

Gannon had focused on moving him past the feelings that had taken him to the brink. Ringabel was bringing them back up. The raw anger and pain he had felt at that time had been washed away with time, but he could now remember with clarity the feeling of the sheets tightening around his neck, and – he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Why? Why do you care?”

“Who did you think would find you?” Ringabel asked him instead of answering.

Alternis hadn’t thought about _that_ little detail at all; his mind had been preoccupied with the deep darkness he felt. He had assumed, wrongly, that his absence wouldn’t be noticed for days. As far as who would end up in the room to find his corpse… he pressed his lips together. It would have been Edea or Ringabel. And he realized now, he’d _wanted_ them to find him. He’d wanted them to see what they had done.

He had to take a breath. His temper had been softened during the long weeks he had been recovering, but he doubted it would ever go away entirely. As tempting as it was to lash out, he had to refrain for now. If he did, he would only spiral back down.

“I didn’t die.”

“You didn’t, thank goodness. But you wanted to. I read your note to me, Alternis.”

Alternis felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t really remember what he’d written in the notes – he was sure it was embarrassing, raw, painful feelings – and didn’t _want_ to remember. For Ringabel to bring them up… why?

“Why?” he croaked, unable to look at the other man’s face

“They took you to the White Magic healing chamber, but you had lost so much blood that we thought we might lose you. It was my fault for reacting the way I did when you were found, so… I'm not sure if you know, but they transfused some of my blood into you so you could be moved to Eternia."

“I remember hearing that.” It was a little humiliating, to think that Ringabel had had to give him blood. However, who better than himself? At least they could be certain they had the same type.

“Edea and I stayed behind in Central Command as you were transported to Eternia and… we weren’t sure if you would survive the trip. I read the note then. I just – I needed to know exactly why you’d done it.”

Alternis did not want to talk about his suicide notes. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Is that all you wanted to say?”

“No,” Ringabel replied. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a large yellow envelope, which he handed over. “I’m sorry that we hurt you so badly and didn’t notice. _I_ should have noticed how upset you were, especially when it came to Annette. You’re the best father that girl could have asked for. I want you to continue to be there for her.”

Alternis took the envelope in shaking hand and upon checking inside, saw three slightly crumpled letters, the paper crisp from the dried blood that had stained it. He stared at them for a moment before closing everything and putting it aside in one of his bottom drawers, which he rarely used. It had a lock.

“I don’t…” What had he _said?_ Trying to remember made his chest hurt with renewed pain.

“You can burn them or read them or whatever you’d like,” Ringabel said, fidgeting with his hands. “The only important thing is that you never write one again. I want you to stay alive for them.”

“Is that the only reason?” Alternis asked. All for Edea, all for Annette? He doubted it. No man was this selfless.

Ringabel’s smile was strained. “Alright, for them and for you and myself as well. I never want to see a sight like that again. I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime. And _you_ deserve to be there for your daughter as she grows. You’re better for it than me.”

Alternis went quiet. He did want to be there for Annette, even if… even if he couldn’t really be there as her father. However, he knew now that Ringabel would do everything to make sure that he did have as much input into her life as possible. And perhaps, with time, Edea would see the reality of the situation…

“Fine. But I still don’t like you.”

He could admit that he didn’t hate Ringabel as much as he had once before. He still didn’t think it fair that Ringabel had won Edea’s heart, had won a place by her side in ways that Alternis would never have. But he could acknowledge that Ringabel, in many ways, had been dealt just as terrible a hand as he had, and was still very kind. At least the Edea that Alternis had grown up with was _alive_.

“Dark Knights don’t like other people easily. It’s quite alright. You can still vent to me. All your anger is better let out than in,” Ringabel said, looking worn from their conversation. “I didn’t say all that to guilt you into liking me. I said it because it was the right thing to do.”

Instead of replying immediately, Alternis ran his hand up his arm. It was tempting, very tempting. Gannon had let him yell a few times, but Alternis had always had to be careful. Even without his Asterisk, he had Mastered it for long enough that he’d kept some of its tendencies. He was stronger than an average human. Ringabel was just a much a Master as he… and Ringabel was a much more deserving target for his ire than his therapist.

“If I have to,” Alternis finally replied. There was a reason he was using art to express himself, because that was much more productive and much less exhausting than yelling or lashing out at people. Still, there were times when it was too much, and he had to yell into a pillow or while showering. Perhaps Ringabel would be able to help in those cases. “As a last resort.”

“I’m all ears!” Ringabel replied cheerfully. “In the meantime, how about we do something nice for you? Something special?”

Instantly, Alternis dreaded what Ringabel might consider nice. The man was a dandy, far too preoccupied with fashion and makeup. Would he say anything about Alternis’s looks? He hoped not. The other man was looking at him so expectantly, waiting for a reply. “What is it?”

“Edea said you’re only working half-days for a while, are you not?”

“For a few weeks, yes.” He hadn’t _wanted_ to work only half-days, but everyone had insisted that he take his time getting back to full speed. If it were up to him, he would throw himself into work for over twelve hours a day, especially considering all he had to catch up on. He shuddered to think the state of his intelligence backlog.

“Good, good! Edea will still be working long hours, so why don't you come and see Annette and me when you're done with work? You can spend all the time you want with her in the afternoons.”

He felt his face flush. He _had_ been wondering about the possibilities of seeing Annette more while he was back in Central Command, but… “Why?”

“I told you before,” Ringabel replied loftily. “That little girl needs her father. She needs you. And I dare say, you need her just as much.” He paused. “Also, if you watch her for a few hours, I can take a break. She’s crawling like a demon! I have to be on my toes around her and sometimes it’s _exhausting_.”

Despite himself, Alternis chuckled. “Are you getting old?”

“Perish the thought.”

They stayed in that little room and chatted for a while longer. Alternis still didn’t like Ringabel, but he supposed that when they had a common, shared topic such as their love for the women in their lives, he was _tolerable._ Together, they worked out what Ringabel cheekily called “visitation”, as though Alternis had any sort of custody rights at all. Since Alternis was expected to be out of work for the day around noon, he would go down to Edea’s rooms to spend time with his daughter and ‘twin’ instead of returning to his own rooms. If Ringabel wanted to leave or do something else, Annette’s things would all be there to make watching her easier.

Alternis wasn’t sure how he felt about being in Edea’s rooms – he hadn’t been in them since the very last night he had masqueraded as his other self – but it would be necessary for now. His own suite wasn’t exactly child-proofed. He had lots of little things lying around, and given that she was mobile now, Annette could easily get hurt.

Eventually, Ringabel went back upstairs to take a nap before the girls came back home, and Alternis decided to work on a painting. Normally when he painted, he favored cooler colors and long sweeps of paint that covered the surface. Today, he decided that he wanted to use the warmer hues. They brightened up the room, spreading across the canvas in bright bursts.

The next morning he arrived to work to an _embarrassing_ standing ovation. Despite his protests, all of the Council members were there to welcome him back as they had threatened. He stood by his seat, face red and chest warm, until Edea finally called order.

“We’re glad to have you back,” Ilina told him. “It hasn’t been the same without you.”

He offered her an awkward smile. Edea had asked that he not wear his armor during the next few weeks. He’d wanted nothing more than to hide behind his helm, but… Gannon had recommended he push himself if he felt able. “Based on the state of Edea’s notes, I was sorely missed.”

“I’m right here,” Edea told him from his other side, but she was smiling all the same. “You’re just so good at notes, Alternis! I wanted you to feel good about it when you came back.”

“I’m sure that’s the reason.”

They spent the next two hours going over the many things that Alternis had missed while hospitalized. There were projects that were starting, a new census, a budget proposal that was in the works for the new year, and other things. He dutifully took notes, some for the meeting minutes and some for his own private use for his spies to look into it, but by the end of the session, he was mentally and physically exhausted.

How long had it been since he’d been around so many people? How long had it been since he’d had to focus on work? He was suddenly very glad that they were forcing him to ease back into everything.

“This is our last group session until next year,” Edea said, looking at the calendar in front of her. “Unless something major happens. We still have our individual meetings for the rest of the week, and then… I think we’ve all deserved a long break. We’ll reconvene at the end of the next month.”

Thank _goodness_ , he thought as the rest of the council chimed in with their approval. Individual meetings he could easily do. And while he’d already told Edea he planned to work most of the break, just so he could catch up, it would be even quieter when everyone else was gone. Several of the council members were even planning to go abroad.

He continued to finish up on his notes, detailing some minor things here and there, as the council members all left.

“How are you feeling?” Edea asked him. “You look tired.”

“Dealing with politics can tire anyone out,” he replied. “I’ll be fine.”

He would be forced to stop working at one in the afternoon, so he made good use of the rest of the morning, categorizing some of his reports, replying to urgent messages, and making plans to do further reconnaissance on the movement of some group in Eisenberg. Things that he could focus on, and things that could distract him from the way that Ilina and Ulric kept watching him, as though afraid that he might burst to tears in front of them or otherwise have a fit.

During the meeting, there had been many subtle references to his hospitalization. Reminders of what he’d missed. Questions if he was overwhelmed with any of the topics. He supposed they came from a place of concern, and he imagined that by now the rumors of how he’d been hospitalized had spread, even if no one openly acknowledged them. Still, they were annoying.

He was _fine_.

At one, he bid goodbye to Edea and made his way to his room… where he promptly told a guard that he was taking a nap, closed the door, and entered his office, pushing aside the crate of papers that hid the hole in the wall and taking the secret passageway up to Edea’s floor. Hopefully, no one would try to look for him.

It was easier this way, and yet… his chest hurt as he poked his head out of Edea’s office, looking around for Ringabel and Annette. He hadn’t seen the space since Ringabel had moved in. He knew they were sharing a bed, but what else had -

To his surprise, there were more baby things lying around than things that suggested a grown man was living with Edea. Several blankets covered in toys were laid out, along with a mobile that a child could lay under. A crib was shoved against one wall, and there was a new dresser he hadn’t seen before, one covered with folded blankets.

Ringabel was laid out on the floor on his back, a book in one hand that he held up toward the ceiling. Annette was tucked against his arm, clutching a stuffed Chomper toy that Alternis vaguely recognized as one he’d given Edea years ago from the shop that had opened in Eternia. She seemed completely drawn into the story that Ringabel was telling.

For a long moment, he paused in the doorway. He… didn’t belong here. Ringabel was doing fine. He’d bonded with Annette… and Annette…

 _‘She needs_ you’ _,_ his inner voice, which had the Florem inflection, said.

“I’m here,” he finally called into the room.

Ringabel jolted, the book dropping from his hands and straight onto the girl’s head. She squawked.

“Ah!” Ringabel cried, picking it up. “You’re okay,” he said to her. She glared at him. To Alternis, he added, “You startled me!”

Annette, upon seeing him, was squirming away from Ringabel so that she could make her way over, wiggling over very quickly. Alternis felt a smile spread across his face. She had yet to learn how to walk by herself, but she could certainly crawl. He closed the distance between them, kneeling in front of her and taking her into his arms.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say she likes you more,” Ringabel complained as he sat up. His characteristic pompadour was looking a little worse for wear after his time on the floor, and he pat it carefully back into place.

Annette’s arms wrapped around his neck, and Alternis gave her a squeeze, tickling her carefully with his fingers so that she’d laugh. “It’s your special way with women.”

“Hah! Nice joke. I suppose that in _this_ case, it makes sense. You are her father, after all. It’s natural she likes you best.”

Annette let go of him, plopping back down on her bottom on the ground. Alternis sat next to her. She seemed to be in a good mood and only a little dirty. She hadn’t had lunch yet, likely, which reminded him.

“Edea’s eating lunch in the office,” Alternis said. “So I decided to come a bit early.”

“That’s fine with me,” Ringabel replied, standing. When he stretched, a slight cracking noise could be heard. “It is about that time, isn’t it? We were so wrapped up in our story that I forgot. Watch her for me, will you?” Edea had long had an icebox installed in her sitting room so that she could keep meals in there. Ringabel entered the other room now.

Alternis was left behind with his daughter, who held a toy out to him. He took it from her, then nudged it against her nose until she giggled and batted at him. This… wasn’t so bad, he decided, reaching for a better toy. He could get used to this.

For the rest of the week, he followed the same pattern. Work in the morning, with a few meetings, a lot of paperwork, and a lot of notes for him to follow up on the next day, lunch in his room, and then spending the afternoon with his daughter and other self, a man he was grudgingly beginning to truly consider his brother, even if he still wasn’t fond of him. Like it or not, he and Ringabel had a bond like no other, and Ringabel was kind at heart, helping Alternis in ways no one else could. Part of him hated it.

The other part, however, was grateful. He’d been given a chance to live, and now he was being given a _reason_ to live. Now, he had lots of time with his daughter, and he was watching her grow. As a Dark Knight, he had thrived in hatred and darkness. The very idea of creating something as bright and sunny as a child was beyond him, and yet here she was.

When the weekend came, as planned, they all visited Braev and Mahzer in their home. The idea of being a part of a family was still new to him, but the past few months had proved beyond a doubt that the Lees thought of him as their own. He had been at his lowest and they had still loved him. He spent time with Mahzer and Braev in turn, relaxing. The darkness’ hold on him loosened even further.

Weeks passed by. To his _delight_ , Annette walked over to him one day, dragging herself to her feet with Ringabel’s hands and crossing over to him, her steps uneven and unsure, but determined. Ringabel had seemed just a shocked as he, but Alternis had paid the other man no mind as he cuddled his daughter close and praised her for her progress. Her first steps! For him!

Ringabel had cooed at the adorable sight, then run from the room so that he could get Edea to come witness the act, which meant that Alternis had to scramble to come up with an excuse as to why he’d been visiting – which was stupid, because he didn’t need an excuse to visit Annette and Ringabel _in his own_ home, but Edea had been too preoccupied with coaxing Annette into walking some more that she hadn’t even asked. She had thrown herself onto the floor and held out her hands for Annette to toddle into, and then all three adults had ended up trying to convince the baby to continue to walk until she got thoroughly sick of them all and started crying.

“Wait until she starts talking,” Edea said, laughing giddily as she stroked her daughter’s back while the girl sobbed. Alternis desperately wanted to wrap his arms around them both, but he held back. “Then she’ll never stop!”

“What do you think her first word will be? How about ‘Dada’?” Ringabel asked, his hand at Edea’s back. He winked at Alternis, who felt his face heat up.

Edea stuck her tongue out at him. “It’ll be Mama! She’s already starting to make sounds like it.”

Annette babbled frequently, but so far none of her sounds sounded like words to Alternis. Ringabel had mentioned that he made it a point to talk to her and read to her as often as possible to help her learn the language easier, but she was still a relatively quiet little girl.

“Like father like daughter, I suppose,” Ringabel said to Alternis after Edea left to return to work to finish up a few more things. She was too excited to stay away for long, which meant that Alternis would need to return to his rooms soon as well. For some reason, he still felt uneasy when around Edea and Annette both. “She’ll be just as quiet as we were in our youths. Hopefully much less angry.”

“That won’t be difficult,” Alternis replied, running his hand over Annette’s head. She held her arms out to him to be held, and he obediently took her into his embrace, where she promptly buried her face into his shoulder, whining. “I’ll die before our childhood happens to her.” When had it become ‘our’ childhood, he wondered.

Ringabel’s smile was pained. “I agree. When we become parents, our goal should be to give our children the lives we never had.”

It was true. He’d nearly done the same injustice to her that had been done to him by his mother, though he knew it wasn’t quite the same; he hadn’t wanted to leave her, but his mind had told him there was no other option. He squeezed her carefully, his eyes slipping shut. He wanted her to have the world.

He’d wanted the same for Edea as well.

But now, things would have to be different. Edea wasn’t in love with him – she never had been, and he had _known_ it and he had _ignored_ it – but the man that she did love was here, and was taking care of Edea and her daughter both. If he wanted them to be happy, then he would have to do something about the bitterness that rested deep within him, the hatred that had stewed since his birth. Weren’t they owed that? The man that Edea had chosen was a good person. He wanted the same good things for them as Alternis did.

Speaking of, he opened his eyes to see that Ringabel had left him cradling Annette, going around the room to pick up toys and put them back where they belonged, in the giant wooden bin that functioned as a toy chest. He watched him, somewhat bemused to see him acting so domestic.

“Does not it bother you?” he asked the other man as Ringabel stooped to fold up a blanket. “That Edea’s child isn’t yours?”

Ringabel looked up, one dark eyebrow raising. “Does it bother you that I’m raising your child?”

“That – “

“This is where I can be most of use to Edea,” Ringabel replied. He threw the blanket into a bin for laundry. “She needs someone to watch her daughter while she leads the country. Besides, in everyone’s eyes, I’m watching over my own child, which is admirable. I certainly have come to think of her as my own. Anyway, the place _you_ are most helpful to her is at her side, helping with Eternia. Things can change later, but for now, I’ll do what I must to help the country and Edea both.”

To help the country and Edea both…

Alternis left soon after, so that he didn’t run back into Edea when she returned to her suite for the evening. He curled up in his bed by himself, thinking on Ringabel’s words.

He’d once sworn to Braev that he would do everything he could to upload the Templar’s ideals. He had then sworn the same to Edea. He would do everything he could to help her, as well as the country that had taken him in his when his own had forsaken him. He now swore the same to his daughter.


	9. please let us heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternis should be careful of what he wishes for, because finally, he gets it.

Winter passed in a flurry of snow and activity.

While the rest of the councilors went on a long, well-deserved break, Alternis worked throughout. He’d promised Edea that he would rest as needed, but had pointed out that he simply had too much to catch up on to take weeks off _again_ , and that it would be easier for him to focus without the constant interruptions of meetings. He was looking forward to the solitude, and to the privacy. The messages from his spies were classified, after all.

She had accepted his reasoning, albeit reluctantly. As Grand Marshal, and leader of the Duchy, she was unable to take as much time away from her duties as other as well. While most of her days were spent with her fiancé and daughter, other days were spent in the office with him, going over urgent reports that had been sent about Eternia or their activities overseas.

He had dreaded the first day they were to be alone together, his heart racing in his chest, but in the end, it had… been uneventful. Edea had barely spoken to him aside from asking him work-related questions, passing over reports, or reading some messages he'd received. He’d calmed. His feelings for her were as strong as ever, but when they were both focused on Eternia like this, they were bearable.

It helped, immensely, that Ringabel continued to arrange ways for him to see Annette without Edea knowing. A part of him felt guilty that they were sneaking around her back, especially Edea had begun to invite him to more “family nights”. The other part didn’t. This was what was best for them all.

His mental health was still shaky some days. Some days he woke up _exhausted_ , tears in his eyes at the very idea of getting up to go to work. On those days, he would send a message up to the council offices and huddle underneath his blankets, distracting himself with art until he felt better, or until Ringabel came to check on him with Annette in hand. It was easy to let the girl play with some toys in his room, allowing himself to relax in the presence of his family. Ringabel never pried much into his feelings on those days, aside from asking him if he wanted anything to eat or drink, which made the attention tolerable.

He hated him. He wanted to hate him. But Ringabel was the only one he could be completely open with, who understood his troubles and his pain. As time passed, and as he grew more used to talking to Ringabel about what was vexing him, and with listening to Ringabel's complaints about his own problems, the anger in his heart faded until some days, it was as though it wasn't there at all.

Annette’s 1st birthday came up o the horizon before he knew it.

“Let’s have a party,” Edea said to him and Ringabel as the four of them, Annette included, sat around in her sitting-room one evening. The girl was sitting on her mother’s lap, looking curiously through one of the picture books she’d been gifted by Yew many months ago. “Mother and Father have said they’d like to do something to celebrate.”

“You just want to eat cake,” Ringabel teased her. He was sitting very close, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. That sort of gesture still felt like barbs in Alternis’s heart whenever he saw it, though the sting had lessened. By now, everyone knew that Ringabel and Edea were planning to marry in summer; Mahzer was undertaking many of the preparations. Alternis had made his peace with it. He’d had to, if he wanted to keep living.

Edea laughed. “Guilty as charged! Let’s make it a chocolate cake.”

Alternis found himself smiling. “She’s too young to eat cake.”

“I got started on cake very early.”

“Exactly,” Ringabel and Alternis said, their voices echoing. They both then made a face at the same time.

“Hey, you can’t make this two against one!” Edea bounced Annette slightly, who giggled. “She agrees with me! Two against two now!”

This was silly, Alternis thought, his eyes casting over his daughter’s gleeful face. She liked bouncing, and she would probably like cake too, but she _did_ seem too young to be introduced to sweets. Right now, most of her meals were healthy blends of vegetables and meats, with some occasional milk if she was feeling fussy. Alternis had fed her more than once, taking Ringabel’s place in coaxing the girl into eating her mashed beets or whatever it was that was on the menu. Actual solid food was rare, though he supposed she would need to start on that eventually.

At nearly a year old, she was walking more sure every day, and for longer distances before needing to rest. He’d helped Ringabel and Edea more solidly baby-proof Edea’s suites, cleaning out her study to be used as a nursery for the girl until she was old enough to have her own, separate room. She’d even begun to talk.

Her first word had been Dada, just as he had hoped. Ringabel had hinted that he’d been coaching her for months into understanding what it meant, but in any case, Alternis’s heart had completely melted the first time she’d turned to him and called him that. Ringabel was also ‘Dada’, but in Alternis’s opinion, the way that she said it was _different._ She did, after all, seem to know the difference between himself and the other man by now. He supposed that the scar visible on his neck when he didn’t wear armor was the cause of that.

Edea had been a bit perturbed when Annette called him Dada in front of her the first time, but had decided, rather loudly, that it was Annette being confused with their identical looks. Besides, she’d said, a small smile on her face, Alternis _had_ helped raise her for the first six months of her life. There was no harm in her calling him such a name.

Ringabel had still not been able to convince her to seek professional counseling. The Grand Marshal was above that.

Alternis returned to Dr. Gannon twice a month, as he was expected to do, each time talking through the events that were troubling him and how to cope with the difficulties he encountered. He was given verbiage, calming techniques, and other resources. He continued to document his feelings daily in his journal. It all helped. Each passing day that he survived past his attempt helped even more to put his past feelings behind him, as well as each passing day he saw his daughter grow.

He was cautiously optimistic that life was, for once, going well.

Annette’s birthday was March 7th, a bright but cold day, and the family gathered in the home that Mahzer and Braev had settled into. Edea and Alternis had both taken the day off, as well as some extra vacation time. He’d been working almost non-stop, even with the reduced hours, since his return. He needed a better break, he had to admit, before everything piled up on him again.

In the months since his stay after the hospital, they had redecorated. It was homey, with Braev’s hand-knitted blankets and cozies strown throughout. His room was untouched, but they’d put a larger bed in Edea’s old childhood room for her and Ringabel, and then created an entire separate playroom full of toys that Alternis doubted one child would ever need in her lifetime. That had been their present to Annette.

“She’s our granddaughter,” Braev said, clapping a hand down on Alternis’s shoulder when he pointed this out. “She’ll get all the toys she wants.”

“You need to save some for future presents,” Ringabel said to him. “How else are you supposed to surprise her if she’s got everything she needs now?”

Braev looked thoughtful. “I suppose that is true… however, I’m certain new toys will be released in the future. We’ll get those as we need to.”

It was a warm, intimate celebration with just the family. Mahzer had made a chocolate cake, as Edea requested, and there were many dishes of delicious food that filled Alternis so thoroughly he didn’t have to think of an excuse not to eat said cake.

Annette was given only a tiny bit of the dessert, and seemed to be more interesting in squishing it in her hand than in eating it, and so Edea ate most of the rest, the woman leaning back in her chair to enjoy the sweet as Mahzer fussed over cleaning Annette’s hands.

Presents came after.

Despite the playroom they had claimed was their present, Mahzer and Braev had also gotten Annette a few cute dresses that she would grow into over the next year. One of them, Mahzer had said, was a dress from when Edea was a little girl as well. They’d been waiting to pass it down, and there were more waiting for her to get old enough for them.

Ringabel’s gift was a set of building blocks for her to grow her mind. “I don’t know why I got these when I’m going to be the one cleaning them up,” he commented as Annette played with one that made a noise from an object on the inside.

“She likes it though,” Edea pointed out from where she sat on the ground with her daughter in her lap. “Good job, Daddy!”

“Dada,” Annette agreed, handing the toy out to him. He took it with a smile.

Alternis hesitated. He had agonized for weeks over what to give Annette for her birthday, once he’d remembered it. At one point, the idea of even being around for her birthday had been foreign to him. Now, he was second-guessing himself. Annette wouldn’t be able to play with it, and she seemed like she preferred things that were physical… “This is mine,” he said, handing the wrapped canvas over. “You’ll need to open it, Edea.”

Edea carefully tore off the paper, letting Annette play with the discarded scraps as she looked the painting over. “Oh, Alternis! This is beautiful!”

At Gannon’s suggestion, Alternis had opted for an oil painting of Annette, aged 1. It had been _extremely_ difficult to get the girl to stay still long enough for him to get a good reference down, but Ringabel had helped, distracting her with a book. The end result was a portrait of her sitting with a toy in her hand, looking down at it thoughtfully. Her hair was less wild in the painting than it was in reality, curled around her ears, and the dress she wore was a vivid white, similar to ones Edea had worn in portraits from her youth. “I want to make a new one every year,” he explained. Photography was still a new art, and while they had some photos of her, none of them were in color like the portrait. “For her to see when she’s older.”

And he _would_ make one every year, as long as he could. That was his real present to her, a promise that he would watch her grow and that he would be at her side.

Edea seemed to understand the meaning behind his words. She beamed up at him, holding the picture carefully in front of her. Annette was interested in it, pressing her hands to the canvas that he’d varnished and protected against her touch. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Alternis. I can’t wait to see next year’s!”

The evening wound down, with the older adults relaxing in their sitting room with Edea and Annette, talking about their plans for the next few days. Alternis found himself cleaning up the kitchen with Ringabel. It seemed only fair, given that Mahzer had cooked everything.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s a year old already,” he found himself saying aloud as he scrubbed at a stubborn plate. “It feels like just yesterday that I held her in my arms the first time.” Where had the year gone? He was not the same person he'd been..

Ringabel was rinsing and drying the dishes off. “I imagine she was as beautiful as her mother! I wish I could have been there to see it, and to hold her. You and Edea did very well with her.”

Alternis went quiet. They were usually very careful not to bring up Annette’s paternity when Edea was anywhere nearby, and he could hear the subtle sounds of the other conversation. What was Ringabel _doing_? “Are you… do you know if she wants other children?”

“She’s mentioned it,” Ringabel admitted. “She’d like to give Annette a sibling, just as she had you, though she said she wants to wait until we’re married, so that it’s more appropriate. Besides, I couldn’t handle another child right now.” He made a face. “Two children in diapers? Heavens no. I want children as well, but I'd like a break too!"

They were getting married in just a few months, Alternis thought. Would she want another child soon after that, so that she would actually have one with the man she loved, or would she wait? The thought was…

“Hey, Ringabel?” Edea called from the doorway. They both turned to look at her. She had Annette on her hip, the little girl holding onto one of the many toys Brave had gifted her. “Could you watch Annette for an hour or so? Mother wants to cook crepes for breakfast and she’s out of sugared berries. We’re going to run to the market before it closes.”

“Of course,” Ringabel replied, drying his hands and crossing the room to take the toddler in hand. She squirmed, wanting down, but he held on fast, leaning over to give Edea a kiss. “Take your time! I’ll take her up to her playroom. Alternis?”

“I’ll finish here,” the other man replied. The dishes were almost all clean. Just a few more plates left, and he wouldn't need help with those. It might even go faster without Ringbel to distract him.

Once all dishes were completed, he looked into in the sitting room. Braev was knitting something that looked like it was going to be a scarf. “Do you need me, my lord?”

Braev looked up. “Not at all, Alternis. Why don’t you join Ringabel and the baby in her room?”

That had been his plan, but – anxiety had made him check with Braev first. After all, what if Braev needed him? Old habits died hard. He nodded his head and headed up the stairs to the playroom door that Ringabel had left open. There, he found the two of them were on the floor, playing with the blocks that Ringabel had given her for her birthday.

Alternis joined them, sitting cross-legged next to Annette as she puzzled over the placement of a few of the blocks, stacking them precariously.

“She’s going to grow up to be smart,” Ringabel commented. He held a few blocks that Annette was choosing from as she built up a tower. One part of it fell, and she scooped the blocks back up to replace them. “It would be nice she joined the military, but perhaps as intelligence like you?”

“I wouldn't mind. As Edea's eldest, she’ll likely be Grand Marshal someday,” Alternis pointed out. Annette handed him a block to hold, and he took it. “Edea does a wonderful job, but for the first few years, she needed a lot of help with our messengers and learning about our networks. If Annette already knows about them, it’ll be her advantage." 

She was growing bored with her tower, toddling over to him and sitting down on his lap. He jostled his leg slightly, bouncing her until she giggled.

“Dada!”

Ringabel took over building the tower, moving the blocks around so that the base was wider and would be less prone to falling. Annette watched him, snuggling back into her father’s embrace. Alternis ran his fingers over her short, fair hair.

“I wanted to ask you,” Ringabel said after a while of organizing the blocks. “You... are still alright with Edea and me marrying, yes? You're not feeling sick over it?"

Alternis swallowed, nails sliding down his throat. “I’ve accepted it,” he replied, because that was the truth of it. Was he alright with permanently losing the woman he loved? No. Would he have to be? Yes. He wanted her to be happy, and Ringabel made her happy. Ringabel, as much as Alternis was loathe to admit it, was a good person. That he was even _asking_ such a question was proof of it. “Why are you asking now?”

Annette was bouncing energetically as she watched Ringabel build. Alternis picked her up and rolled over until he was on his back, lifting her above his head. She squealed, kicking her legs with delight.

“I think she likes danger,” Ringabel commented, laughing. Something about the sound of it made Alternis’s heart pound in his chest. “Actually, I was wondering if you would be amenable to giving me away.”

“W-what?” Alternis very nearly dropped his daughter. Instead, he lowered her to his chest. She leaned her head against it. “Give you away?”

“It’s tradition for family to give away both bride and groom, is it not? Lady Mahzer volunteered to stand in as my mother, but you… you are closer to my family than any other.”

Alternis felt his cheeks grow warm. Crystalist tradition still headed strong in some parts of Eternia, even with Braev’s long campaign. One of those traditions was that at weddings, a member of each family needed to ‘approve’ of the union, giving the bride and groom to one another. It was obvious that Braev would be giving Edea away, but Alternis hadn’t thought about Ringabel’s part in the wedding at all. He hadn’t wanted to. 

“I do owe you for saving my life,” Alternis replied. That wasn’t entirely true; Ringabel had owed him already, and that debt had been repaid by Ringabel's actions all those months ago. However, it was a good excuse. “Fine. I’ll give you away.”

The smile that Ringabel gave him was both infuriating and embarrassing. Alternis tried to ignore him and went back to playing with his daughter, who was watching them curiously, her hand in her mouth as she drooled on it.

“Good, good!” Ringabel pushed the blocks aside, toppling over the tower he’d built, and stretched out beside the other man, kicking his legs in the air as he watched Alternis lift the girl up once more. “I was talking to Lady Mahzer, and she suggested that you carry Annette down the aisle with me, so that you can hold her during the ceremony. She’s too young to be in it but we can't leave her by herself, either. There's no one to watch her if we're all at the ceremony."

Perhaps if she were a few years older, she could be a flower bearer, but then… Alternis lowered Annette so he could kiss her forehead. She smiled at him, her few teeth showing.

“She’s always seemed happier when you’re around,” Ringabel was saying now. “It astounds me that she can tell the difference between us. Not everyone can.”

“The scar helps.”

“You _are_ her father, Alternis. She remembers who cared for her before I came! Besides, our handsome visage is still the same, isn’t it? You cover the scar up half the time.”

Alternis found himself laughing at the sheer absurdity of the statement. “My daughter isn’t as looks-obsessed as yours will be,” he said. The comment barely hurt; Edea _did_ want another child, after all, and she would have a husband soon. “She’s just a good girl, and she knows I love her.” He smiled up at her, and then lowered her once more to nuzzle her button nose to his. "My beautiful girl."

“We both – Edea!”

Alternis looked over, too late, to see Edea standing in the open doorway. She stared at them, a tray in her hands that threatened to slip out of her grip. Ringabel was scrambling to stand, and Alternis sat up with Annette in his hands, his blood pounding in his ears. How much had she heard?

Annette let out a cry, startled at the sudden movement. Edea dropped the tray, the plates on it clattering to the ground as she slid to her knees. Her arms wrapped around her waist.

Ringabel kneeled beside her. “Darling, are you – “

“You’re her father, Alternis?” Edea asked, her voice low. “You… can’t be serious.” When she looked up at him, he was pained to see there were tears in her eyes, her gaze darting back and forth between the two men. “Ringabel is...”

Ringabel had wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Edea, dear…” He wasn’t denying it. Alternis realized that he wouldn’t.

She let out a sob, and Annette began to cry because her mother was, the girl clutching Alternis’s shirt. He looked down at her, then back up at Edea, torn. Ringabel shook his head at him and Alternis took that as his cue to try to comfort his daughter, hushing her as he rubbed at her back.

“Mama!”

“She’s _yours_ , isn’t she? You said that she was,” Edea said to the man who held her. She grabbed onto his arms. “Y-you and I were sleeping together for months, and she’s…”

Ringabel closed his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the top of Edea’s head. “Edea, I love you. That has never changed.”

Edea went very quiet. Her breath came in ragged gasps.

Annette was calming down as her father soothed her, though she was very teary as she looked over at her mother. Alternis felt a deep pit open in his stomach, panic crawling over his limbs, and he suddenly recalled the day that he’d made his suicide attempt, how desperately lost he had felt, the dread and numbness that had fogged his mind. Darkness was pulsing at the edges of his vision. His breath died in his throat. Over. It was all - 

Then, he looked down at the little girl he held. She was sucking on her thumb, leaning her head into him as she sniffled. She needed him.

“She’s mine,” Alternis said, his voice barely more than a whisper. It _hurt_ to speak. His heart was breaking once more. “It was I who was with you all those nights. You know this, Edea. You _know_.” Didn’t she?

“I – no, that’s not true,” Edea protested. He wanted to scream. He almost did, were it not for Annette wailing again. “She’s - Ringabel, I wanted _your_ child.”

“She _is_ my child,” Ringabel replied, his hand at Edea’s back. “In a sense. But Alternis is the man who made her with you. Do you love her any less?”

“N-no, of course not,” Edea stammered. “She’s our – “

“Yours and his,” Ringabel said with finality, though his tone was gentle. “I know you want to have a child with me, and we will, I promise. I can't wait until we do.”

“I…”

“… You and Alternis made Annette, and she’s beautiful. I love you.”

Edea was shaking, clinging to her fiancé. Alternis had wanted her to see the truth, to accept that he had sired Annette with her, but this was too much to watch. He began to stand.

“Why… why didn’t you say anything?” Edea asked suddenly. “Why did you say she was Ringabel’s? You all lied to me?”

“You know why,” Ringabel said. He leaned his head against Edea’s, his arms tight about her. Alternis stood, holding Annette against his hip. She didn’t need to see her mother breaking down. “We should have said something sooner, and I’m _sorry_ , my dear.” His voice was breaking.

“No! I… no! I didn't..."

She was still somewhat in denial, Alternis thought as he awkwardly shuffled around the two people kneeling in the doorway. But she was beginning to accept that which they had all known, and hopefully, Ringabel could convince her to let go of the lies for good. Whatever the other man was saying now was lost in Edea’s hair as he buried his face against it, his arms shaking.

At the bottom the stairs, he encountered Mahzer. “Did something happen? I heard something fall.” she asked him, worried.

“Edea overheard us talking about Annette,” Alternis replied, his voice quiet. The girl’s face was still splotchy and swollen with tears. “About…”

“Oh dear,” Mahzer said, lifting a hand to her mouth. “Ringabel told us that he wanted to tell her soon, but… this must still be a shock. Is she alright? Are you?"

He nodded, too shaken to respond. Her words, despite himself, annoyed him. How much of a shock could it really be when she had _known_ that Alternis was coming to her and pretending to be Ringabel? After all, she had given him permission to use the other man’s name, he thought. At the same time… he knew how desperate a person could be when they wanted to be _happy._

And Annette had made her very happy, just as she had made him happy. Surely she could acknowledge that, at least. The happiness their daughter had brought, despite all the lies and denial.

He stayed downstairs with Braev and Mahzer for a while longer, too uneasy to return to his own room. It was too close to the playroom, and anytime he passed by the stairs he could hear crying, or the low sounds of Edea and Ringabel talking. The sky grew darker as time passed, and eventually Annette fell asleep against his shoulder. He lay her down on one of the sofas in the sitting room and covered her with a blanket. Normally, he'd tuck her into a proper bed, but this would have to do for now, until the other two were finished.

Eventually, Ringabel came down, looking tired. He joined the rest of the family in the kitchen.

“She’s very upset,” he told them, accepting the cup of coffee that Mahzer poured out for him. “She’s also very angry that we didn’t try to force her to acknowledge the truth before now. She feels foolish, but… she seems to have accepted that we can’t hide it anymore.”

“Edea can be very stubborn,” Braev said. “Once she’s decided on something, it’s difficult to change her mind.”

“Perhaps she would accept this easier if we’d had some sort of battle with her,” Alternis mused, glancing toward the sitting room. From where he stood, he could see the baby sleeping on the sofa. They had tucked a pillow against her side so that she wouldn’t roll off and hurt herself, but he still wanted to be careful. “As we did in the past, that is. She might find it easier to see our point of view.”

Ringabel snorted. “Sometimes I think she only understands ideas exchanged in blows. If it comes down to it, we should try it. For now… let’s let her rest. I've gotten her to lie down so she can sleep off the shock."

Mahzer and Braev didn’t keep alcohol in the house, because they had been warned to keep it away from Alternis during his recovery, but a part of him was sorely tempted to go out and buy some just to spike his and Ringabel’s coffee with it. They deserved it. Ringabel seemed _exhausted_ , his eyes rimmed red, his face pale. His bottom lip trembled as he sipped at his coffee.

“She did say that she knew it was you the whole time,” Ringabel assured Alternis when they were alone in the kitchen a couple of hours later. Mahzer had decided that she and Braev would take Annette to bed with them that night and let her sleep between them, and in their age they had decided to retire early. “She just hadn’t wanted others to know… she’d wanted it to be me. She’d wanted to keep the truth hidden."

Alternis snorted. “Am I something to be ashamed of?”

“Are you?” Ringabel asked him, raising an eyebrow. “I think it was more that she had told others she would wait for me. Obviously, having a child with someone else means she didn’t.” There was only the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice. So Alternis thought, he wasn’t as selfless and understanding as he seemed.

“She did wait for you,” he pointed out. “What I had with her wasn’t the same as what she has with you. She… and I… we were only lonely.” Lonely fools, who had hurt one another in an attempt to soothe themselves.

“I was lonely as well, and I – never mind,” the other man sighed. “What’s done is done. I suppose I can’t begrudge her for wanting to be happy or for seeking comfort. Heaven knows I chased enough skirts while trying to regain my memories.”

“That’s an understatement.” Alternis had listened to Edea complain enough about Ringabel’s early tendencies to last him a lifetime. “Our face has a terrible reputation because of you.”

“It does not! I was a gentleman, through and through!” Ringabel protested, hand on his chest. “Was it entirely my fault that I had forgotten some social niceties? I never meant to leave behind a trail of broken hearts.”

It hadn’t been a trail of broken hearts he’d left behind, based on what Edea had said. It was more like a trail of annoyed women with sore hands from slapping his face. Alternis said nothing, but took another sip of his coffee. The silence could speak for itself.

It was past midnight by the time both men decided to sleep, biding the quiet hours of the night with more conversation. The apprehension that Alternis felt in his stomach faded with each passing moment. From what Ringabel told him, without going into many details, Edea had seemed deep in denial but had been feeling guilty the entire time over insisting that Ringabel was the father. She’d been relieved when he’d accepted it as truth, and then had wondered if perhaps she’d been right after all. They’d done no one any favors by not forcing her to acknowledge Annette’s paternity. She’d been horrified as Ringabel spoke to her about Alternis’s feelings in the matter. She was blaming herself for his pain over the past few months.

The wedding was still on, Ringabel said. They _had_ waited long enough to be wed, and despite everything, their love for one another was strong enough to survive Edea’s shock. However, Ringabel had insisted she seek counseling, which she had agreed to, finally. She'd realized now that she should have months ago, before things got this bad. In the meantime, she would be opening up to him more, no longer hiding anything from him.

Alternis wanted to be happy for him. In a way, he was. He’d had plenty of dreams and nightmares over Edea openly accepting that he was Annette’s father. It had ranged from her being happy, accepting his feelings for her, and marrying him, leaving Ringabel at the altar, to a nightmarish scenario where she sued him for full custody and exiled him from Eternia for lying about his identity. This was… firmly in the middle.

Ringabel decided to sleep on the couch, and Alternis went to his room, settling down into his old bed. There, he lay for what seemed like hours, mind racing over the events of the day. A part of him was urging him to sleep, so that he could wake up in the morning and talk to Edea. The other part of him was telling him _not_ to sleep, so that he could avoid the conversation as long as possible.

 _‘You’ve already avoided it for over a year_ ’, he reminded himself as he tugged his blankets over his shoulder and rolled over to face the wall. _‘Get it over with.’_

Suddenly, he found himself flailing, as a hand came down on his shoulder and shoved him awake. He didn’t remember falling asleep. 

Edea loomed over him, her face barely visible in the light from the windows. For a moment, he wondered if the past year of hell had been a dream, because all he could remember was the long nights he had spent with her in Central Command. Then, the background came into focus. They were in his room in the Lee house.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed, pulling his blankets tighter. He usually didn’t wear a shirt when he slept, even in Eternia’s climate, and felt oddly underdressed, though he knew she had seen him in much less.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“It couldn’t wait?!”

“No, not this.” He felt the bed dip as she sat down beside him, and despite his trepidation, he scooted over so that she’d have more room to curl up, her knees tucking close to her chin. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Was that it?

“I hurt you badly, didn’t I?” He didn’t know how to respond to that, so… he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his face into his pillow, wondering if she would continue. After a moment, she did. “You’re my best friend, Alternis. You were there for me when no one else was, and I… I got too caught up in what _I_ wanted to consider your feelings. What I did to you was… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

He swallowed. He should probably say something, like that he forgave her, or that it was no problem. But Gannon had assured him, over and over, that he didn’t need to forgive someone if he wasn’t ready to, and that extended to Edea as well, even if his instinctual response was to comfort her. His feelings were _important,_ and her intentions didn't matter if she'd hurt him. “I’m sorry we didn’t … push it sooner.” Because they had _tried_ to reason with her before and she had been stubborn, but they all found it easier not to argue with her. As he had earlier, he wondered if they really should have tried to fight it out with her in battle.

At the very least, he should have told her to her face that he was Annette's father. The words had never left his mouth until today.

“I hurt you and Ringabel and… everyone.” And then, she was beginning to cry, and he realized that she was shivering not just from the tears but from the cold, and he sat up so that he could wrap one part of his blanket around her. “You most of all.”

He didn’t know what to say. He _had_ been hurt by her actions, but a part of him still ached to see her cry. He wasn’t entirely blameless in this act, either. He had to admit that. He had gone to her, repeatedly answering to the other man’s name instead of his own. He’d fed into her lie. He’d covered for her, even when others had directly confronted him. He… 

“I still love you,” he said. She stiffened at his words. He inwardly cursed himself, praying that she wouldn't take them terribly. She was going to hate him, wasn't she? He was ruining everything again, with his terrible timing.

She was quiet for a long few moments, rubbing at her face, before suddenly she turned to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him firmly around the middle. He grunted, surprised.

“You’re my best friend,” she repeated. “I love you too, but not… the way that you deserve. I wish I could.”

Edea cared for him, he knew that. They’d supported each other over the last few years in ways that no one else could. Still, his heart hurt at her words, for all he'd tried to prepare himself for them. For all he'd heard those same words before. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head. “I know.” She was in love with Ringabel. Not him. 

“I nearly killed you,” she said. “Ringabel… he told me that when you.... when you tried to take your own life, it was because of my actions. Because you thought my only family was Ringabel and Annette. I pushed you over the edge. ” He inhaled sharply. That bastard!

“That… wasn’t the entire reason,” Alternis replied weakly. It had been a combination of her actions, perhaps, and his own destructive thoughts that had gotten away from him. His self-harm had spiraled him into a dark place he’d been obsessed with, unable to pull himself out until it was far too late. She hadn’t helped, but she hadn’t tied those sheets around his neck. He could not, _would_ not blame her entirely for his attempt.

“No, it wasn’t. But you know – they had you in the Central Healing tower and they found all those old wounds on you, and we realized you had been hurting for a long time. I wondered then, but I know now.”

His face felt heated with embarrassment. Mahzer had said they’d kept him asleep for a couple of weeks to let his body heal, but he hadn’t understood what that meant until now. “That was…”

“It’s never going to happen again,” she insisted. She squeezed him again. “Annette’s your daughter, Alternis. And I’m happy we had her. I’m happy it was with _you._ You're my family."

Warmth filled him, and not just because of the way she held him. He wrapped an arm carefully around her shoulders, letting her lean closer. She had on both a flannel nightgown as well as a robe, likely something that Ringabel had made her change into before she lay down, but he could feel how warm she was regardless. “Me too. I’m very happy we had her.”

“She looks like you.”

“She looks like _us_ ,” he replied, because yes, Annette had many of his facial features and his eye color, but she had Edea’s smile and her hair would likely darken with age. She was _their_ daughter.

* * *

Things became different between him and Edea.

She was still in love with Ringabel, and _that_ would never change. Alternis felt the sting in his chest lessen each time he saw the two of them together, holding hands or leaning against one another. They were still going to get married in summer, and he had agreed to give Ringabel away to the union, and he had long accepted that Edea had found the love of her life, and he was happy because she was happy.

But he and Edea had Annette, and she _knew_ that now, and that was a bond they shared with no other. Though they both worked full-time, and Ringabel still watched the girl during the day, Annette was often brought to his rooms after work, usually by Edea herself. He would spend hours with her every day, and more on the weekends, watching her as she napped, playing with her, or even feeding her dinner. She was adorable and sweet, and though she threw tantrums now and then, as expected from someone her age, she filled his life with such light that his dark thoughts lessened each day until they nearly disappeared altogether. 

Sometimes, Edea stayed behind to spend time with him and Annette both, sitting down on the floor with him as they played with Annette together. Sometimes, Ringabel joined the three of them, and they would eat dinner in Alternis’s rooms, or otherwise just relax.

Edea was warmer with him than she had been since they were children. Even during the period of his identity crisis, she had kept Alternis at arm’s length during the day. Now with those barriers down between them, she was physically affectionate, touching his shoulder or his arm, kissing his cheek when she handed Annette to him for the day. Utterly touch-starved, those interactions became something he enjoyed just as much as cuddles with his daughter, even when Ringabel joined in.

He wanted to hate the man – and had had some _strong_ words with him the day after Annette's birthday – but he _couldn’t_ , not when Ringabel was _kind_. Ringabel was supporting Edea as she finally sought out a few counseling sessions, as well as looking after Annette while her parents worked. Ringabel slung friendly arms around Alternis often, and though the first few times, Alternis shrugged them off, he eventually began to return the gesture. The platonic touches were… nice. He enjoyed them, even if he didn’t always know how he felt about the man behind them. He could tolerate Ringabel, he decided one day. He might even like him, especially when Ringabel would sit down next to him on a couch, close enough for their thighs to touch, sending tingles to his neglected nerves.

“I looked into getting Annette’s birth certificate changed. Just in case,” Edea said, six weeks after that fateful day, from where she was laying on top of Ringabel’s back. He was currently flipping through a few children’s books; he liked to read through them first and practice his voices before reading them to Annette. “But… it’s easier said than done, even for the Grand Marshal.”

Few people knew that Alternis was Annette’s father, even now. They had gone so long telling people that it was Ringabel – even Ringabel himself – that having to think of an explanation was incredibly uncomfortable. They didn’t want to give the impression that Edea had lied maliciously, or that she had lost her mind, or some other excuse that the tabloids might think of. Besides, Braev had pointed out to them as they talked about the logistics of telling the world, Edea’s love life was subject to privacy, even if she did rule the country. No one was owed the truth over her daughter’s paternity.

Alternis looked up. He’d been playing with Annette’s hair, who was currently dozing in his lap. She was so sweet when she slept, he could sometimes hardly believe that she was _his_ daughter. “What do you mean?” He’d seen her fill it out after Annette’s birth. ‘Ringabel Dim’ was listed as the father.

“If it was a mistake, like… I spelled his name wrong, then that’s just some paperwork to be filed. But to change the father entirely, Ringabel would have to do a blood test to prove he’s not her father before it can be rendered blank and changed.”

Ringabel hummed. “And, since Alternis and I am the same person, a test would tie her to me.”

Alternis sighed. It was enough that Edea was acknowledging it, and that her parents and friends now knew. He didn’t need a piece of paper to show it too. 

“Then, just change the name,” Ringabel suggested. “Alternis ‘Ringabel’ Dim. Isn’t that what we’re using for the wedding? It will be close enough. You can tell them that you hadn’t realized my full name until I returned to correct you.”

Edea made a face. “I still can’t believe people believe your explanation that you guys had your names mixed up at birth.” Alternis wasn’t sure _how_ Ringabel had convinced people that their birth names had gotten mixed up in the orphanage, and that he too had gone by Alternis until he lost his memories, but… somehow, he had. They were both officially ‘Alternis’.

Ringabel laughed. “All you need is confidence and a straight face, and they’ll believe anything!”

That explained everything about Ringabel, Alternis thought. Then, he noticed Annette waking, her eyes cracking open at Ringabel’s loud laughter. Her tiny mouth screwed up with displeasure.

“You woke the baby,” Alternis said, reaching for a pacifier to give her. “You’re going to give her all sorts of bad habits.” She immediately pulled the pacifier into her mouth, her eyes slipping back closed as she suckled. He ran his hand over her hair to further soothe her.

“It’s probably too late for that,” Edea said, sitting up. “She probably already knows all of them.”

Ringabel protested with a gasp, holding a hand against his chest as best as he could, given that he was lying on his stomach. “I show nothing but the best behavior around our little girl! If she develops any bad habits, it’s not because of _me_.”

 _Their_ little girl? Alternis supposed that yes, all three of them were having a hand in raising her, but… he felt his cheeks warm.

“Are you saying it’s because of me?” he asked Ringabel, voice quiet.

“No,” the other man replied, winking. “It’s because of her mother.”

“Hey!”

Alternis tuned out the sound of their banter as Edea decided to elaborate on all of Ringabel’s bad behaviors, turning back to the girl he held. She would be just fine, he thought. He’d make sure of it.

His visits with Dr. Gannon were continuing. The first time he had met with the therapist after Edea’s acknowledgment of the situation, the doctor had called it progress, and praised him for being so level-headed about it. It had to have been hard, to see her outright denying his tie to Annette to his face, but he had handled it, along with the late-night conversation very well, from what had been explained.

Then, Gannon had asked him what he was going to do now. Would he accept Edea’s apology and move on with his life, or would he try something different? Everyone was discouraging Alternis from falling into his old, bad habits where he had harmed himself for her. Alternis didn’t want to return to those times either. But moving on… it didn’t feel right either. He loved Edea, whether or not she returned those feelings, and he liked being around her. Sometimes, his heart would hurt, but those times were becoming more and more infrequent.

He might even call himself ‘happy’. It was odd to think about.

His whole life, his happiness had depended upon others. Upon the approval of his lord Braev, or on how successful he was. His identity had been wrapped up in being the perfect pawn. Then, when Edea had taken charge, his happiness had depended upon _her_ approval.

Now, he found himself happy in these little moments with his family and all of the people who comprised it, even Ringabel, who had never outright tried to do him harm and who symbolized endless possibility.

For now, he could be _content_ with this. With doing what he could to make the future of Eternia better, and in doing what he could to make everyone’s life better. Edea’s, Ringabel’s, Annette’s, and his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap.   
> Please comment and let me know what you think! If you'd like to see more, because I do have some more thoughts for this universe, let me know as well! :D

**Author's Note:**

> This is officially being continued. I live off feedback!


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